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GENEALOGY 

N4315 
1910-1911 



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New England Magazine 



An Illustrated Monthly 



NEW SERIES, VOLUME XLIII 



September, 1910 — February, 1910 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1908, by 

NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE COMPANY 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington 

All Rights Reserved 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE CO., Publishers 

Bert rand L. Chapman, President Frederick W. Burrows, Editor 

Old South Building, Boston, Massachusetts 



INDEX 

VOL. XLIII. 

A Practical Joke Roland W. Fletcher 352 

A Fair Witch, A Novel Frederick Sterling 387 

A Masquerade of Menus Judge Henry Austin 573 

A New Englander's Visit to the Tolstoi 

Estate Grace Agnes Thompton 587 

A Breath of Mint Grace Hazard Conkling 580 

After You Had Died Florence Kiper • 205 

Alexander's "Odes on the Generation of 

Man" Frederick W. Burrows 370 

Adams, Melvin Ohio 109 

At the Shrine, Poem George Herbert Clarke 104 

ation, New England 

Aviation Meet, The Harvard John Luce • 28 

Austin Calvin 9 

Ballad of Dickey-Bird James O'Neill 369 

Beautiful New England 1 

Beautiful New England 129 

Beautiful Ware W. T. Wood .231 

Bird of Love, The Sui Sin Far .25 

"Blue Bird," Maeterlinck's Ethel Syford .36 

Boston Art Club, The Ralph Davoll 427 

Boston of the Future, The Ralph G. Wells 497 

Bouquet, The, A Poem Theodosia Garrison 79 

Boston's Outdoor Winter Sports Kate Stevens Bingham 600 

Blue Stocking in Europe and America, 

The Zitella Cocke . . • 592 

Burglar and the Bible, The Cary Seely 158 I 

Cave Life to City Life Lewis E. Palmer 316 \ 

Christian Science Faith, The Alfred Farlow 425 

Cover Design, "The Story-Teller." Photo 

by Notman 

Cover Design, "New England Aviation" 
Coming Year of the Boston Symphony 

Orchestra Ethel Syford 206 ; 

Consumption of Goodness, The R. L. Bridgman • 238 

Cranford, Old I^ouise Andrezvs 345 

Curtis Edwin Upton 43 



INDEX Hi 

Daughters of Herod, The, I Mary Boyle O'Reilly .'. 137 

Daughters of Herod, The, II Mary Boyle O'Reilly 277 

Denman Thompson John Walsh 43 

Distinguished New Englanders 106 

Dip of the Tar Brush, The M.A. II 176 

Dunbar's Flirtation Charles Drey fuss .336 

Eyes of the Portrait, The Kathcrine Roof 447 

Fine Art of Grand Opera Advertising . . Theodore II. Bauer 197 

Fisheries Arbitration at the Hague, The Samuel J. Elder 265 

Ford Flail Meetings, The Pauline Carrington Bouvc 508 

Frontispiece, Pan j amis Ghat 

Frontispiece, A Christmas Decoration 

from Bethlehem, Pa 

Frontispiece, Mrs. Julia Ward Howe . . 

Girl and the Moose, The Helen B. Trask 80 

Granites of New England, The Elliott Mitchell . 84 

Hermann Kotzschmar Latham True 365 

Flistoric Happenings on Boston Com- 
mon, III Marion F. Lansing 97 

Historic Happenings on Boston Com- 
mon, IV Marion p. Lansing 191 

In New England 117, 245, 373, 519 

Jerry's Cuban Rights Kate M. Knox . . . . 503 

Jumping-Off Place .77 

Land of the New England, The George W. French 636 

Maeterlinck's "Blue Bird". Ethel Syford 36 

Maeterlinck's "Mary Magdalene" Ethel Syford 485 

Memorials to Theodore Parker in Italy, 

The Two * Kenyon West 332 

Mother-Love Henrietta Lee Coulling 591 

Moon-Child, A Poem James Brannin 436 

Montpelier Charles M. Rockzvood 51 

New England, The World's Shoe Centre Alfred Warren Donovan 357 

New England Impressionists in the Red- 
man Collection F. W. Coburn 437 

New Haven, A Dual Civic Personality Charles E. Julin ... .615 

Nightmare of Religions, A . . ." Judge Henry Austin 17 

Northampton, the Meadow City of 

Hampshire County William T. Atwood 301 

Pawtucket, R. L, a Typical N. E. In- 
dustrial Centre t /^j\ 

Progress of Mrs. Alexander, The, A Play Louie R. Stanwood ... .531 

Providence Art Club, The Abigail Whipple Cook 492 



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IV 



INDEX 



Quincy, A City of Progress 

Quincy's Waterfront 

Recent "Letters of John Stuart Mill," 

The 

Re-Election of Lodge, The 

Redolent World, The . . . . : 

Sister, The 

St. Oswald and a Rushbearing 

Stage-Managing Mama 

Theory of Sculpture, A 



William T. Atwood 163 

Frank F ess end en Crane 171 

Ethel Syford ...643 

569 

Ellen Burns Sherman • 319 

Frances Bent Dillingham, 319, 459, 607 

Charlotte Roberts 453 

Leigh Gordon Giltner 581 

Courtenay Pollock .649 







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Panjamis — Benares, India 



(See page ly) 



New England Magazine 



Vol. XLIII. 



SEPTEMBER, 1910 



Number i 



The International School of Peace 



By EDWIN D. MEAD 



^y EW England has for almost a 
J century led the United States in 
" the great movement for the 
peace and better organization of 
the world, which has now become the 
commanding cause of the age. Indeed 
it may be questioned whether any other 
part of the world, of equal size and popu- 
lation, has contributed an equal number 
of eminent workers to the cause, or 
exercised so large an influence. The 
peace movement as an organized move- 
ment did not begin in New England. It 
began in the city of New York, where 
David Low Dodge, in 1815, founded the 
New York Peace Society, the first peace 
society in the world. But the Massa- 
chusetts Peace Society was organized, in 
Dr. Channing's study, in Christmas week 
of the same year, through the initiative 
of Noah Worcester ; and on Christmas 
day of the previous year, 1814, Worces- 
ter had published in Boston his "Solemn 
Review of the Custom of War," which 
had a vastly larger circulation and ex- 
erted a vastly larger influence than the 
two works published by Dodge in the 
years immediately preceding the found- 
ing of the New York Peace Society. In- 
deed no impeachment of the war system 
ever made up to that time had been so 
widely read or produced so profound an 
impression as this famous pamphlet by 
Noah Worcester, which today, after the 
century, by its clear statement of the 
problem and its constructive stateman- 

* The friends of peace throughout America and the world unite in mourning the death of Mr. Paine 
occurring just as this article goes to press. 



ship, is still an up-to-date tract. Wor- 
cester's "Friend of Peace" was the first 
regular peace journal in the world. The 
Massachusetts Peace Society almost in- 
stantly became a larger, more active, and 
more influential organization than the 
New York Peace Society, numbering in 
its membership, which quickly passed the 
thousand mark, the leading men of the 
state; and the American Peace Society, 
formed in New York in 1828 through a 
federation of the various existing socie- 
ties, may be considered more truly its 
lineal descendant than that of any other 
body, for it made the most important 
contribution to the new union. By this 
time there were peace societies in every 
New England state. The Connecticut 
Peace Society had become a very large 
society; and the headquarters of the 
American Peace Society were in 1835 
moved from New York to Hartford, re- 
maining there for two years, when they 
were removed to Boston, which has ever 
since remained the centre of the peace 
movement in America. The first- presi- 
dent of the American Peace Society was 
Rev. John Codman of Dorchester, Mass. ; 
its first secretary and real founder. 
William Ladd of Minot, Maine, a native 
of, New Hampshire. The work done by 
these devoted men and their official suc- 
cessors, through the long decades while 
the cause remained unpopular and ob- 
scure, down to the time when Robert 
Treat Paine and Benjamin F. Trueblood. 



12 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Chester, one of the northern suburbs of 
Boston ; and he is emphatically a home 
man. If there be an interest which in 
a measure rivals his interest in the peace 
cause, it is that in the housing problem, 
the movement for better homes for the 
poor. The good home he believes funda- 
mental to -.good society; as he believes 
that the nations will neves attain a fitting 
and worthy life, never really prosper, 
even materially, until they become a co- 
operative family of nations. 

I speak of Mr. Ginn's provision for 
the International School of Peace as the 
most generous yet made for peace edu- 
cation. That is by no means saying it is 
the largest made for peace purposes. Mr. 
Carnegie has of course given amounts 
larger than the provision for the School 
of Peace for many peace purposes. The 
peace cause is with him the chief and 
most commanding cause. The great duty 
of our time he has well said is to put a 
stop to man-killing, as the duty of Tin- 
coin's time was to put a stop to man- 
selling. He gave $1,500,000 for the 
splendid Peace Palace at The Hague ; 
half as much for the noble building for 
the Bureau of American Republics at 
Washington ; and a large sum for the 
building for the international court in 
Central America. The fund which he 
provided here for rewards and pensions 
for Heroes of Peace was $5,000,000; and 
he provided a fund of $1,000,000 for 
similar purposes in France. His help 
for the Peace Congresses, for the Asso- 
ciation for International Conciliation, 
and for almost every agency of the peace 
cause in America has been constant and 
munificent. The great generosities of 
others can never be forgotten. The 
peculiar interest of Mr. Ginn's benefac- 
tion is in its service for the distinctly 
educational side of the peace work, its 
direct provision for public enlighten- 
ment upon the waste and folly of war 
and the means to supplant it by institu- 
tion- of international justice and order. 

Precisely the aim and effort of the 
Peace Societies, it will be said; and that 
is essentially true. The difference is 
mainly in method. Mr. Ginn is a strong 
believer in the Peace Societies, is himself 
a vice-president, as I am, of the Ameri- 



can Peace Society. He believes that 
many great lines of the agitation can 
be successfully carried out only by large 
popular bodies of friends of the cause 
leagued together. But he believes that 
other things can be most efficiently done 
by a smaller body of experts, a kind of 
"faculty" or "school," and that the larger 
popular bodies will immensely gain 
through the co-operation of the smaller, 
more closely organized institution and 
the material and instrumentalities which 
it can better supply. It is the efficiency 
and power of such limitation and con- 
centration which he has learned as a 
successful business man. 

There is perhaps no greater good 
which Mr. Ginn's generous founding of 
the School of Peace is likely to do for 
the Peace Societies than its prompting 
to larger generosity toward the treasuries 
of those societies by their members and 
patrons. Many of these are very 
wealthy men ; yet it has to be said that 
the annual, resources of the American 
Peace Society, after nearly a century, 
are but little more than a third of the 
$50,000 which Mr. Ginn is to devote an- 
nually to the work of the School of Peace. 
The endowment of the Audubon Society 
for preserving the birds is greater than 
that of all the Peace Societies in America 
for stopping the slaughter of men in war. 
This is not creditable ; and it is high 
time for the wealthy friends of the peace 
cause to support it in a way that is credit- 
able. I believe that Mr. Ginn's liberal 
provision for the School of Peace will 
do a hardly greater service through that 
institution in particular than it will do 
to the peace cause in general through 
prompting more liberal giving all along 
the line. For better financing is the 
supreme need of the cause and its 
agencies at this hour. Felix Moscheles 
was not far out of the way when he said 
the other day in London : "Give me 
money, and I will give you peace." There 
is no other great cause which in this 
age of munificence has been so poorly 
supported financially as this greatest 
cause of the age, the education of the 
peoples in the principles of international 
justice and fraternity. A hundred books, 
a hundred speakers, a hundred teachers. 



THE INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL OE PEACE 



13 



a hundred journals, a hundred conven- 
tions and congresses should be provided 
for tomorrow where there is one today. 
Happily it is not in America alone that 
the friends of peace are alive to the 
necessity of better organization and 
larger resources. In England the same 
feeling is finding strong expression from 
strong men. One of the most energetic 
expressions was in a recent speech by 
Sir William Mather at a great meeting 
of the Peace Society in London, which 
was also addressed by Mr. Carnegie. 

"We have heard a great deal here tonight," 
said Sir William, "which is inspiring. But I 
am by my training as an engineer a very 
practical man. What are we going to do? 
We have something to do practically, ladies 
and gentlemen. Let us in England and 
America, in each country, collect at least a 
quarter of a million pounds of money — a fund 
so large as to meet every kind of expense to 
make this war against war an actual practical 
fact and one that within the next decade at 
least may come to fruition. I can remember 
a great league being formed in Manchester, 
my native city — I was only a small boy at 
the time — but I can remember my father being 
connected with a great league that collected 
in a very short time £250,000, and spread over 
the whole of this country, and removed the 
shackles that were binding our trade, strang- 
ling our lite, and starving our people. I 
mean the great repeal of the Corn Laws. That 
was done when men were poorer than they 
are now, and yet in my own city many men 
came and dumped down a thousand pounds 
for this great fund, and after four or five 
years the Corn Laws were repealed, and a 
new era of prosperity dawned upon the people 
of England. There never has been an oppres- 
sion so deep and fatal as this constant prep- 
aration for war among the nations of the 
world. Let us from this meeting determine to 
have an international league of peace. If 
this meeting approved, and it struck the council 
of this society to go to business, to get to 
work and collect a vast sum of money, there 
are plenty of us who would support it ; and 
I believe the world would be immensely aston- 
ished if it found that we not only applauded 
eloquent speeches and got vast numbers to- 
gether to cry for peace, but that we paid for 
peace." 

When men like Sir William Mather 
talk in this way, we may be sure that the 
organization of the peace movement in 
England will quickly take on a very 
different character, as it is taking on so 
different a character here in America 
through the practical efforts of men like 
Mr. Carnegie and Mr. Ginn. As con- 



cerns Mr. (jinn, it should be said here 
that he is absolutely without pride of 
name in connection with his foundation. 
So far from desiring to have it known 
as the (iinn School, or anything of that 
kind, he refuses and forbids it. I speak 
here authoritatively, as he has spoken 
upon the point with me more than once 
and explicitly. Simply the International 
School of Peace it is, and is to be ; and 
the sooner some other makes a larger 
contribution to the work than he is him- 
self able to make, to that extent making 
the work more another's than his own, 
the happier he will be. He counts upon 
the large and liberal co-operation of 
many ; for he considers the $50,000 a 
year which he will give during his life- 
time, and for whose continuance after- 
wards he has provided by his will, but 
a beginning of the great work in peace 
schooling which needs to be done in 
America and in the world. The expendi- 
ture of his own contribution goes now to 
other hands. For the School has been 
incorporated, with a board of able trus- 
tees — scholars like President Faunce of 
Brown University and Professor Dutton 
of Columbia, statesmen and men of 
affairs like Hon. Samuel W. McCall and 
Hon. Charles S. Hamlin ; and with these 
trustees will be an able body of directors, 
men specially identified with the peace 
cause, to conduct the actual work in its 
various fields. 

President David Starr Jordan of 
Stanford University, whose books upon 
"The Blood of the Nations" and "The 
Human Harvest" express so powerfully 
and startlingly his sense of the mon- 
strous and intolerable ravages of war, 
has been profoundly interested in the 
plan for the School of Peace from the 
time he learned of its proposal. He has 
already rendered the School immense 
practical service ; and, onerous as are his 
duties at the head of his great institu- 
tion, he will give the work earnest and 
regular attention, it is hoped ever more 
and more, inspiring and controlling 
especially the efforts in schools and uni- 
versities. Mr. John R. Mott, whose de- 
voted and enthusiastic work the world 
over in organizing and guiding the 
World's Student Christian Federation 



14 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



has so won the hearts of young men and 
made him a conspicuous international 
figure, will direct the affiliation with the 
School of young men's organizations of 
many kinds. Professor James Brown 
Scott will counsel and co-operate in 
matters touching legislation and inter- 
national law. Mr. James A. Macdonald, 
whose vigorous and independent editor- 
ship has won for the Toronto Globe a 
place in Canada not unlike that of the 
Springfield Republican and the Manches- 
ter Guardian in the United States and 
England, will devote himself largely, and 
enlist others to devote themselves, to this 
great work through the press. One of 
the foremost preachers in the country 
will direct work in the churches. In 
London, Paris and Berlin, and later in 
Shanghai and Tokio, the school will have 
able representatives and correspondents ; 
and it will have an Advisory Council of a 
hundred of the leading scholars, states- 
men and educators of the country. 

How long Mr. Ginn has been inter- 
ested in the peace cause I do not know. 
He first called me into conference nine 
or ten years ago, since which time I have 
been honored by being made his counsel- 
lor and helper in developing his plans. 
But his interest in the cause is of older 
date than that. I know that he was pro- 
foundly affected by Dr. Hale. I remem- 
ber at least one impressive conference 
on international justice in his office, at 
which I was present, where Dr. Hale 
prophesied with power. I remember his 
being at the Mohonk Arbitration Con- 
ference — that inspiring nursery of so 
much of potency in the peace cause in 
America — as early as 1897; and he 
would not have been invited there had 
his interest in the cause at that time not 
been known. He was there again in 
1899, and again in 1901; and in this 
latter year he made his first speech there. 
In that 1901 speech he emphasized the 
special duty of business men and the 
importance of more generous financial 
provision for the cause. "We spend 
hundreds of millions for war; can we 
not afford/' he asked, "to spend one 
million for peace?" This seems to have 
been his keynote. He was presently say- 
ing — and this he long continued to say — 



that he would be one of ten to give a 
million. That has been a popular kind 
of leverage to secure co-operation in giv- 
ing, and so he tried it. But he grew 
weary in waiting for response, and at 
last decided, very sensibly — he announced 
this publicly in a letter to the Nation 
last autumn — that he would make his 
own contribution unconditionally and be- 
gin, letting his $50,000 a year go as far 
as it would, confident that others would 
help in good time, confident, to echo 
a favoiite proverb of Mr. Carnegie's, 
that if the web begun proved a good one, 
the gods — in the persons of men — would 
send more thread for it. And so the 
School of Peace is incorporated, and 
begins its larger work. 

Its larger work, I say. The useful and 
varied work already done in these years, 
preliminary to the broader plans, must 
not be forgotten, for it has been well con- 
sidered, significant, and very necessary 
work. It was about ten years ago that 
Mr. Ginn's contributions for peace work 
began. I remember that in 1904, the 
year of the International Peace Congress 
in Boston, he gave $1,000 for that work ; 
and from that time to this he has been 
giving liberally, latterly, from $8,000 to 
$10,000 a year, for the cause. I think 
that it was at the Boston Congress that 
he first outlined his plans in a general 
way. He did it again at the International 
Congress at Lucerne, the next year ; 
and he did it at the National Congresses 
in New York and Chicago in 1907 and 
1909. It was always essentially "the 
same old speech," as Dr. Hale used to 
say of a certain speech of his which he 
repeated until people remembered it ; 
because his message was a simple and an 
urgent one — that the peace movement 
must be better organized and better 
financed. 

Two years, however, before the 1904 
Congress, he had begun practical work 
for the cause. The beginning was with 
books. Mr. Ginn is a publisher, an edu- 
cational publisher, and knows the value 
of books ; and it was because he saw 
that our movement sadly lacked books 
that he started in as he did upon his first 
definite work. He said, "I will see to it 
that the peace movement is supplied with 






THE INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL OF PEACE 



15 



all the books and pamphlets that it 
needs." He knew that it needed much, — 
that the Peace Societies and other work- 
ers were not half furnished with material 
for their work. There is a splendid lot 
of peace literature in the world, but com- 
paratively little of it is accessible in cheap 
and tasteful form. So we started upon 
the publication of our International 
Library ; and we have already published 
a dozen or more books in that Library. 
Our first volume was Bloch's "The 
Future of War," which has exercised a 
revolutionary influence upon men's ideas 
concerning modern war ; and this was 
followed immediately by the famous Ad- 
dresses of Channing and Sumner. Other 
volumes have been Bridgman's "World 
Organization," Warner's "Ethics of 
Force," Dodge's "War Inconsistent with 
the Religion of Jesus Christ," Walsh's 
"Moral Damage of War," Hull's "The 
Two Hague Conferences," Scott's" Texts 
of the Peace Conferences at the Hague" 
and "American Addresses at the Second 
Hague Conference," Evans's "Life of 
Randall Cremer," and "The Great De- 
sign of Henry IV." This last is the first 
of many of the famous classics of the 
peace movement, books like Kant's 
"Eternal Peace," which will be added to 
the Library ; and other works already in 
press are Bridgman's "First Book of 
World Law," Reinsch's "Public Inter- 
national Unions," and Dr. Hale's "Mo- 
honk Addresses." We are adding to 
the Library constantly, and hope at no 
distant time to have a hundred volumes. 
It is not too much to say that no so im- 
portant series of peace works has ever 
before been undertaken. We have also 
started a pamphlet service, circulating 
freely 25,000 copies of various pamphlets 
which we hope will help, and being care- 
ful not to duplicate the splendid work 
being done by President Butler and his 
helpers in the Conciliation Association. 
Our first pamphlet was Justice Brewer's 
noble address on "The Peace Mission of 
the United States ;" and to this have 
already been added pamphlets on "The 
Literature of the Peace Movement," 
"Heroes of Peace," "Results of the Two 
Hague Conferences," "Educational Or- 
ganizations Promoting International 



Friendship" and other subjects, which 
are freely furnished to all who ask for 
them. In other forms we published 
earlier Tolstoi's "Bethink Yourselves" 
Carnegie's "A League of Peace," and 
Mrs. Mead's "Patriotism and the New 
Internationalism." 

Mr. Ginn has helped various other 
organizations. He believes in co-oper- 
ation. No more useful work for the 
cause has been undertaken in the last 
two years than that of the American 
School Peace League, which is already 
teaching the teachers in every state in 
the Union. When that splendid organ- 
ization was in its initial stage, Mr. Ginn 
gave $1,000 to help it on, because he felt 
it stood for the sort of work that he 
wanted to have done. He is now help- 
ing with similar generosity the Associ- 
ation of Cosmopolitan Clubs, the remark- 
able new movement in our universities 
which has already leagued 2,000 stu- 
dents in the service of international 
brotherhood, feeling that this, too, is in 
distinctly the right line, and that the 
Association can do better a certain work 
among students that he wants to see 
done than we could do it independently. 

He has recognized the great need of 
work among women's organizations ; 
and he has secured an accomplished and 
devoted woman, Mrs. Anna Sturges 
Duryea, to give her time expressly to 
work among women's clubs and other 
societies, going to various parts of the 
country to address clubs, sending liter- 
ature, and doing work of all sorts in that 
field, which is so important — Ruskin's 
word about it and the no less memorable 
word of Justice Brewer will be remem- 
bered — and which for the most part has 
been so sadly neglected by us in our 
organized peace efforts. 

Mr. Ginn became warmly interested 
in the work of Fraulein Eckstein, of 
Boston, known to many in connection 
with her famous petition to the last 
Hague Conference in behalf of inter- 
national arbitration, for which petition 
she collected two million signatures. A 
year ago he provided for her giving all 
her time to similar work with reference 
to the next Hague Conference and, as 
she is a native German, for spending two 



16 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



years in addressing women's clubs and 
other organizations in cities of Germany, 
to bring American women and German 
women. German teachers and American 
teachers, and German and American 
people generally closer together. She 
has held meetings during the last year in 
thirty or forty German cities ; and in 
the city of Munich alone she secured 
125,000 signatures to her arbitration 
petition. The best service of this great 
petition — although as a demonstration of 
public sentiment it is certainly most 
effective — is its educational service ; it 
compels every person who signs at least 
to focus his mind definitely on our cause, 
and constantly proves a provocation to 
serious reading and study. 

Work in the churches has not been 
neglected. Two years ago we secured 
a visit to this country from the eloquent 
Rev. Walter Walsh of Dundee, Scotland, 
the author of "The Moral Damage of 
War" ; and his impassioned addresses 
created such deep interest and won for 
him so many friends that when he came 
again this year for another two months' 
campaign he had a yet warmer welcome 
and yet larger success. We shall arrange 
for similar visits from other leading 
British preachers — we hope from Clif- 
ford and Horton and Home — and for 
missions of American preachers to Eng- 
land. Men like Charles E. Jefferson, 
Charles F. Dole, Charles R. Brown and 
Frederick Lynch surely have a message 
for England as for America, and would 
surely have warm welcome there. It is 
high time altogether that we had a broad 
and influential international exchange 
service for peace education, as we al- 
ready have made so good a beginning at 
such exchange in our university world. 

Mr. Ginn was greatly stirred by the 
early meetings of the business men in 
the Mohonk Conferences, which have 
come to be such a feature there. He 
believes that, if the business men of the 
world could be properly appealed to, 
they could and would put an end to war 
which violates every principle of good 
political economy ; and he early deter- 
mined to make the appeal to business 
men a distinct feature of his work. He 
recently secured for service in this field 



our late consul at Prague, Mr. Urbain 
J. Ledoux, a man of untiring energy and 
enthusiasm, master of many languages, 
and unusually well informed concerning 
the commercial organizations of all 
nations. Mr. Ledoux's first important 
work was to stir up the Boston Chamber 
of Commerce to invite the International 
Congress of Chambers of Commerce to 
hold its next session in 1912, in Boston. 
Going over to the meeting of the Con- 
gress in London in June of the present 
year, he came home to report success ; 
and the great international commercial 
event which we may now confidently 
hold its next session, 1912, in Boston, 
look forward to here in 1912 will be due 
primarily to his zeal. 

Such are some of the good undertak- 
ings and achievements of the Inter- 
national School of Peace in its prelimin- 
ary period, before indeed it was fully 
born as an incorporated body. They are 
certainly good auguries. The School 
already has commodious headquarters 
in Mr. Ginn's fine publishing building on 
Beacon street in Boston, with Mr. Arthur 
W. Allen in charge of the bureau, mass- 
ing and classifying useful information 
for all who care to come for it and send- 
ing out books and pamphlets to every 
part of the country and of the world ; 
and the pleasant quarters are already a 
centre for conferences and many edu- 
cational activities." The School will co- 
operate heartily with all good existing 
agencies, provide them with material, and 
supplement their efforts as it can ; and it 
will open new lines of work where these 
are clearly needed. Its distinct field is 
the educational field. It is a School of 
Peace ; and by the spoken word and the 
printed page it will endeavor to carry 
our message into every place where men 
study and think and make public opinion 
and make laws. It is first an American 
work ; but it will unite itself with those 
in England and Germany and elsewhere 
who are promoting the same great inter- 
national ends. Its parish is the world ; 
but it counts it as not the least of 
its inspirations and benedictions that 
it was cradled and is centered here 
in Channing's and Sumner's New 
England. 



A Nightmare of Religions 



By JUDGE HENRY AUSTIN 



YOU'LL never know India until 
you see Benares," said an Eng- 
lishman in the service of the 
Crown, when I told him one 
afternoon at Hong Kong that I intended 
to go to Calcutta. Why he said this in 
just the way he did I could not then 
understand. Now I know, for I have 
followed his advice, and my recollection 
is that I have experienced a nightmare 
of religions. 

To see Benares, as my well-versed 
English friend meant it, was not to see 
the Benares of architecture or the Ben- 
ares of monuments and bazaars. In- 
stead, he wished me to glimpse the 
strange rites and almost unbelievable 
practises, which mark this jumbled pile 
of temples and dwellings and blind 
alleys and broad promenades as the 
"Holy City" for millions of swarthy 
men, women and children, from all over 
the teeming human ant hill of India. And 
after seeing it under what might be 
called a well stage-managed direction, I 
have carried away with me a remem- 
brance of things that the average Ameri- 
can might expect to see only in bad 
dreams — of men and women bathing in 
sewage with their children eagerly 
grasping forth to wallow in the unspeak- 
able slime ; of still other families bow- 
ing low before bloody sacrifices in the 
presence of a horrible idol ; of human 
beings giving deference to monkeys and 
filthy fakirs revered for their uncleanli- 
ness. With this remembrance there 
comes, too, the never-to-be-forgotten 
odor of burning flesh — human flesh — 
and of the greasy black smoke which 
clouded the river front. 

A nightmare of religion is what it all 
seems to me now, and by the very con- 
trast I can^ never forget the manner in 
which I was introduced to it. Of course 



I had read of the Sacred Ganges and of 
most of the rites, but my wise English 
friend planned, without my realizing it 
at the time, that I should see these 
things as they are, and not as the aver- 
age tourist comes upon them. For that 
reason, as I now know, he advised that 
I take a train from Calcutta which would 
bring me into Benares just after dusk. 
He had given me a letter of introduction 
to a friend of his in the Anglo-Indian 
civil service, and that friend, a most 
charming companion and obliging host, 
at once told me that I must be prepared 
to leave my hotel before daylight the 
following morning when he was to call 
for me and take me out upon the river. 

So it happened that at sunrise the next 
morning I was seated on the deck chair 
of a river boat gliding down the Ganges. 
The blue gray mists were whirling away 
rapidly, and as each smoky wreath dis- 
solved under the slanting rays of light, 
there came into view first the minarets 
of hundreds of mosques, then the angu- 
lar pinnacles of gilded and crimsoned 
pagodas, and, finally, as the lower sur- 
face veils of fog faded away, the squat 
buildings closer to earth and nearer to 
the lives of the people I had come to 
see. 

Even before the last, lazy, dun- 
colored layer of fog unveiled the yellow 
bosom of the Ganges these people, the 
patient, easily-driven multitude of India, 
were heard chanting their Vedic hymns, 
a haunting noise that seemed to my west- 
ern understanding to be extremely un- 
satisfying. Hardly was the song heard 
when the singers were visible. They 
swarmed in naked or half-naked thou- 
sands all along the ghats, or steps, that 
run from the embankment down into the 
muddy depths of the river. At first 
glance it seemed as if all Asia had gone 

17 



18 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Raja of Amethi's temple 



mad and that millions were vainly en- 
deavoring to cast themselves into the 
water. After a few minutes the order 
and method of it became apparent. 
A mighty congregation were going 
through a ritual with regular chants and 
responses. 

"Keep your eyes on this group near- 
est us," said my English friend, smiling 
at my amazement. "What they're 
doing, all the rest are doing; and you 
can't see all three rings at once, you 
know." This last reference seemed al- 
most irreverent but the advice was good. 
As each worshipper walked down the 
3teps into the river, he tossed a handful 
of water once, twice and three times into 
the air. Next he dipped his body into the 
water three times, repeating all the while 
the sacred Vedic hymns and reciting the 
names of the Gods together with the 



sonorous word "0m," which applies as 
an expression of extreme reverence to 
all the Gods. 

The number of persons thus engaged 
was bewildering and my friend, seeming 
to read my thoughts, leaned over to tell 
me that from 25,000 to 50,000 bathe thus 
daily, while on special days of holiness as 
many as 100,000 come down the slimy 
ghats or steps into the sacred water. But 
Figures meant nothing; it was the 
spectacle. As I listened to this guide- 
book information I noticed that the 
group that had just finished the forms 
of obeisance were now dipping up hand- 
fuls of the holy water and were drink- 
ing it. Between sips they faced the East 
and murmured prayers. 

After all it had been an impressive 
ceremony and under the fresh morning 
light it seemed to be the dream of some 



A NKiHTMARK OK RELIGIONS 



19 



neo-religious painter who seeks an exotic 
setting and a picturesque ritual. But our 
boat was drifting downward and we 
came before the outlet of a rapidly run- 
ning sewer. All sorts of city tilth were 
distinguishable in the flow that gurgled 
out into the Ganges, and yet within two 
feet of it men, women and little children 
were drinking the contaminated stream 
and nodding toward the East. "They 
are purifying themselves," observed my 
English friend and, then, after a pause, 
he added : "Do you wonder our health 
officers have plenty of work? 

Here and there on the turbid current 
floated nearly submerged carcasses of 
goats and dogs ; twice a corpse, bloated 
and green, tumbled down stream past the 
worshippers. Yet, if the crowds along 
the ghats saw these things, they did not 
heed them, for the Hindus are so con- 
vinced of the purity of the Ganges that 
they think nothing can defile its waters. 
The drinking and ceremonial splashing 
continued among the common people, 
while here and there on specially re- 



served steps stately Brahmans, or priests, 
went through their morning ceremonies, 
majestically, as if participating in some 
pageant upon a stage. There are 30,000 
of these Brahmans, the elect in the caste 
system of India, living in Benares alone, 
and they are deferred to by all other na- 
tives since all others are admittedly 
beneath them in rank. These Brahmans, 
in their own ceremonial, dipped wisps 
of the sacred grass "Kusha" into the 
water, and with each sweep of the wet 
grass lifted up their voices in prayer. 
Other shampooed their heads with the 
rank river mud because, forsooth, they 
deem soap "impure." 

Although the low caste women mingled 
with the men along the lower steps, the 
high caste women set forth in curtained 
boats before sunrise and went through 
their rites at a special ghat far from the 
common herd. There they barely un- 
covered their faces to the rising sun, and 
as soon as the morning light was strong, 
they hurried back into their covered 
craft and were taken to the water gates 




General view of the Ganges, Benares 



20 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



of their zenanas. But this minor detail 
of the women was soon overshadowed 
by an uproar that drowned out the chant- 
ing and responses of the brown skinned 
bathers. The clanging of cymbals and a 
hideous high pitched series of shrieks 
greeted us as our boat came opposite one 
of the wide stone platforms further 
down stream. 

It needed no comment from my com- 
panion to indicate that we had come to 
one of the famous burning ghats. There 



again. The flames shot through the well- 
dried wood and began to eat a bright way 
around and about the shrouded figures. 
It was not a pleasant sight, this primitive 
cremation, and so our boatmen were or- 
dered to pass along. But we came to 
another and yet another funeral ghat. 
They were in all stages of progress and 
the heavy, stingingly odorous smoke 
swung out and down along the river. 
Truly, I had seen enough of water front 
religious ceremonial for one morning, 




Ganga Mahal Ghat 



was the great pile of fagots and at the 
river's tdga lay several bodies covered 
with plain white winding sheets. The 
feet of the corpses were thrust out into 
the stream. Then, as another and even 
louder crash of cymbals rang out, at- 
tendants took up the bodies and im- 
mersed them entirely in the sacred water 
for a moment before starting with them 
to the pyre. On the heaped-up wood the 
bodies were laid, and, as the torch was 
applied, the shrieks of the mourners and 
the clang of brass rang out again and 



and so we put in to the nearest landing 
stage that was somewhat separated from 
the burning ghats. 

It so happened that our landing stage 
was at the Sitla Ghat and there we came 
upon another living proof of the strange 
forms taken by this religion, which to my 
mind at least, seems a perversion of 
things as they ought to be. In a little 
temple only a few feet from the Ganges, 
squatted an old man, entirely naked, with 
long, matted, ragged-looking hair and 
long curved nails on fingers and toes. 



A NIGHTMARE OF RELIGIONS 



21 



He looked like some ancient bird of prey, 
plucked of his feathers and left to 
starve. And yet this was a very holy 
man, the sight of whom is a benison to 
the believers. He speaks to nobody and 
spends his days in meditation depending 
for sustenance on the charity of wor- 
shippers who bring him fruit and rice. 
The story is that ten years or so ago he 
renounced his family, distributed his 
property among his relatives as if he 
were about to die, and betook himself to 



Temple" and its name is well deserved, 
for never have 1 seen so many nor so 
repulsive monkeys, the creatures seem- 
ing to resemble human beings in that 
they have become impertinent from too 
much kindness and unhealthy from too 
much food. But before we came to the 
monkeys, we passed through the main 
entrance before which is situated what 
might be called the "band stand," where 
the priests beat on a large drum three 
times a day to announce the services. 




Manikarnika Ghat 
This is the most sacred place in the whole city. There is more 
bathing here than at any other ghat 



this temple. Since then he has done no 
work of any sort and he is but one of 
thousands of such so-called holy men in 
India. 

After seeing this miserable, unclean 
old man with his glassy eyes and clawed 
hands, it was not such a shock to come, 
after a few minutes walk through the 
noisy, multi-colored crowds of the 
crooked streets, to the Temple of Durga. 
This is commonly known as the "Monkey 



Durga, for whom the temple is named, 
was one of the wives of Siva, the 
Destroyer, and since the Hindus fear him 
mightily they seek to win his favor by 
doing obeisance to his wife — a method of 
procedure which is not unknown in 
human affairs. 

Within the temple, the center of atten- 
tion, however, is the shrine of Kali, 
another of Siva's wives, for Kali is de- 
picted as a blood-lustful she-demon 



22 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Sun worshippers— The sun is much worshipped 



M 




Mosque of Aukangzib, erected in 1669 



A NIGHTMARK OF RELIGIONS 



2$ 




The Brass Bazar. Benares is noted for bras:; 



whose thirst must be quenched daily. 
Seen through the brass plated doors and 
rendered more hideous by the semi- 
gloom of the interior, she loomed up as 
a hideous black figure with distorted face 
and open mouth, her tongue hanging to 
her waist line. About her body huge 
serpents writhed and at her throat was 
a necklace of human skulls. Idols of this 
engaging creature are to be found in 
every village of India, but the center of 
the cult may be said to be in Benares. 

There in the court yard occur the daily 
sacrifices which, thanks to the British 
rule, no longer consist in decapitating 



young children. Kali must in these days 
be satisfied by the blood of a goat that is 
killed just as the children were in former 
times. The goat is stretched forward 
and a priest severs the animal's head with 
one sweep of a sharp knife. Then the 
hot blood is smeared by the priests upon 
their own faces before they go into the 
presence of the dread goddess to pour 
over her the blood which she is supposed 
to desire so fervently that unless she gets 
it she will bring famine and pestilence 
upon the land. 

Usually the head of the goat alone is 
taken to the goddess and the priests 



24 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 










Temple of Durga, where daily sacrifices 

ARE MADE. In FORMER TIMES CHILDREN, 
AT PRESENT GOATS AND BULLOCKS 

dance about the body chanting their 
hymns, while the hundreds of gray, 
mangy monkeys chatter at them from 
their perches or porticoes, window 
ledges and palm trees. In times of fam- 
ine a goat is not enough for Kali and 
one of the great water buffaloes is 
brought in and decapitated, a task, by 
the way, which must require a wonder- 
fully strong man since the rite calls for 
a single stroke of the knife and a buf- 
falo's neck is about as thick as a man's 
waist. 

The sacred monkeys interested me, as 
they do all visitors, for they seem to take 
it for granted that they own the temple 
and all that pertains to it. Nor is this to 
be wondered at since they are fed regu- 
larly and reverenced by the priests and 
worshippers, because of the legend that 
the king of all the monkeys was Hanu- 
man, son of the Wind, who performed 
prodigious Heeds in helping Ram in his 
fight against Ravan, the demon king of 
Ceylon. Yet the worship of these mon- 
keys with their resemblance to human 
beings is not so strange when one 
visits the Annapura Temple, where cows 



are worshipped. There we watched the 
worshippers feed the sacred cows and 
bullocks, while the priests looked on 
jealously to see that no sacrilege w r as 
committed. Also we learned that these 
cattle, once they are taken into the 
temple and anointed, never leave it until 
they die and are cremated. Still, of all 
the sights among the temples, the pleas- 
antest was that of the sleek, mild eyed 
cattle, for it seemed that as if people 
must worship animals these at least were 
inoffensive and were beautiful to look 
upon. 

Such are some of the sights of Ben- 
ars, the city whose history reaches back 
more than 2,000 years and to whose 
gates there come a million worshippers 
every year. These worshippers are of all 
castes and of all degrees of wealth and 
poverty, since in India caste and wealth 
are by no means the same, and a Brah- 
man may be a beggar. I had an oppor- 
tunity to see something of this panorama 
under most favorable guidance, and I 
now agree with the Anglo-Indian who 
said that to understand even a little of 
that mysterious country one must see 
Benares. 




The Burning Ghat 



The Bird of Love 



By SUI SIN FAR 



THEY were two young people with 
heads hot enough and hearts true 
enough to believe that the world 
was well lost for love, and they 
were Chinese. 

They sat beneath the shade of a clus- 
ter of tall young pines forming a perfect 
bower of greenness and coolness on the 
slope of Strawberry hill. Their eyes 
were looking oceanwards, following a 
ship nearing the misty horizon. Very 
loving yet very serious were their faces 
and voices. That ship, sailing from 
west to east, carried from each a message 
to his and her kin — a message which 
humbly but firmly set forth that they 
were resolved to act upon their belief 
and to establish a home in the new coun- 
try, where they would ever pray for 
blessings upon the heads of those who 
could not see as they could see nor hear 
as they could hear. 

"My mother will weep when she 
reads," sighed the girl. 

"Pau Tsu," the young man asked, "Do 
you repent?" 

"No," she replied, "But — " 

She drew from her sleeve a letter 
written on silk paper. 

The young man ran his eye over the 
closely penciled characters. 

' Tis very much in its tenor like what 
my father wrote to me," he commented. 

"Not that." 

Pau Tsu indicated with the tip of her 
pink forefinger a paragraph which read : 

"Are you not ashamed to confess that 
you love a youth who is not yet your 
husband ? Such disgraceful boldness will 
surely bring upon your head the punish- 
ment you deserve. Before twelve moons 
go by, you will be an Autumn Fan." 

The young man folded the missive and 
returned it to the girl whose face was 



averted from his. 

"Our parents," said he, "knew not love 
in its springing and growing, its bud and 
blossom. Let us, therefore, respectfully 
read their angry letters, but heed them 
not. Shall I not love you dearer and 
more faithfully because you became mine 
at my own request and not at my 
father's ? And Pau Tsu, be not ashamed." 

The girl lifted radiant eyes. 

"Listen," said she, "When you, during 
your vacation went on that long journey 
to New York, to beguile the time I wrote 
a play. My heroine is very sad, for the 
one she loves is far away and she is 
much tormented by enemies. They 
would make her ashamed of her love. 
But this is what she replies to one cruel 
taunt. 

When Memory sees his face and hears 

his voice. 
The Bird of Love within my heart sings 

sweetly 
So sweetly, and so clear and jubilant, 
That my little Home Bird, Sorrow, 
Hides its head under its wing, 
And appeareth as if dead. 

Shame ! Ah, speak not that word to one 
who loves, 

For loving, all my noblest, tenderest feel- 
ings are awakened, 

And I become too great to be ashamed. 

"You do love me then, eh Pau Tsu?" 
queried the young man. 

"If it is not loye, what is it?" softly 
answered the girl. 

Happily chatting they descended the 
green hill. Their holiday was over. A 
little later Liu Yenti was on the ferry 
boat which leaves ever half hour for the 
western shore, bound for the Berkley 
Hills, opposite the Golden Gate, and Pau 



26 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Tsu was in her room at the San Fran- 
cisco Seminary, where her father's am- 
bition to make her the equal in learning 
of the son of Liu Jusong, had pleased 

her. 

II 

"I was a little fellow of just about 
their age when my mother first taught 
me to ko-tow to my father and run to 
greet him when he came into the house," 
said Liu Venti, speaking of the twins 
who were playing on the lawn. 

"'Dear husband!" replied Pau Tsu, 
"You are thinking of home — even as I. 
This morning I thought I heard my 
mother's voice, calling to me as I have so 
often heard her on sunny mornings in 
the Province of the Happy River. She 
would flutter her fan at me in a way 
which was all her own. And my father. 
Oh, my kind old father!" 

"Aye," responded Liu Venti, "Our 
parents loved us !" 

"Let us go home," said Pau Tsu after 
a while. 

Liu Venti started. Pau Tsu's words 
echoed the wish of his own heart. But 
he was not as bold as she. 

"How can we?" he asked, "Have not 
our parents sworn that they will never 
forgive us?" 

"The light within me today," replied 
Pau Tsu, "reveals that our parents sor- 
row because they have thus sworn. Liu 
Venti, ought we not to make our parents 
happy, even if we have to do so against 
their will?" 

"I would that we could," replied Liu 
Venti, "but there is to be overcome your 
father's hatred for my father and my 
father's hatred for yours." 

A shadow crossed Pau Tsu's face ; but 
only for a moment. It lifted as she 
softly said : "Love is stronger than hate." 

Little Waking Eyes ran up and clam- 
bered upon his father's knee. 

"Me too," cried Little Sleeping Eyes, 
following him. "With chubby fists he 
pushed his brother aside and mounted his 
father also. 

Pau Tsu looked across at her husband 
and sons. 

"The homes of our parents," said she, 
"are empty of the voices of little ones." 



Three moons later, Liu Venti and Pau 
Tsu, with mingled sorrow and hope in 
their hearts, bade good bye to their little 
sons and sent them across the sea, offer- 
ings of love to parents of whom both son 
and daughter remembered nothing but 
love and kindness, yet from whom that 
son and daughter were estranged by a 
posionous thing called Hate. 



Ill 



Two little boys were playing together 
on a beach. One gazed across the sea 
with wondering eyes. A thought had 
come — a memory. "Where is father and 
mother?" he asked, turning to his 
brother. The other little boy gazed be- 
wildered back at him and echoed : 
"Where is father and mother?" 

Then the two little fellows sat down 
in the sand and began to talk to one 
another in a queer little old fashioned 
way of their own. Their little mouths 
drooped pathetically ; they propped their 
chubby little faces in their hands and 
heaved queer little sighs. 

There was father and mother one time 
— alway, always ; father and mother and 
Sung Sung. Then there was the big ship 
and Sung Sung only, and the big water. 
After the big water, grandfathers and 
grandmothers, and Little Waking Eyes 
had gone to live with one grandfather 
and grandmother and Little Sleeping 
Eyes had gone to live with another grand- 
father and grandmother. And Little 
Waking Eyes and Little Sleeping Eyes 
had been good and had not cried at all. 
Had not father and mother said that 
grandfathers and grandmothers were just 
the same as fathers and mothers ? 

"Just the same as fathers and 
mothers," repeated Little Waking Eyes 
to Little Sleeping Eyes, and Little Sleep- 
ing Eyes nodded his head and solemnly 
repeated : "Just the same as fathers and 
mothers." 

Then all of a sudden Little Waking 
Eyes stood up, rubbed his fists into his 
eyes and shouted : "I want my father 
and mother, I want my father and 
mother!" And Little Sleeping Eyes 
stood up and cried out strong and bold : 
"Let us go seek them. Let us go seek 



TJ1F IJIKD OFLOVK 



27 



IV 

So it happened that when the two new 
Sung Sungs who had been having their 
fortunes told by an itinerant fortune 
teller some distance down the beach, re- 
turned to where they had left their 
young charges, they found them not, and 
cries. Where could the children have 
much perturbed, rent the air with their 
gone? The beach was a lonely one, 
several miles from the seaport city where 
lived the grandparents of the children. 
Behind the beach, the bare land rose 
for a little way back up the sides and 
accross hills to meet a forest dark and 
dense. 

Said one Sung Sung to another, look- 
ing towards this forest : "One might as 
well search for a pin at the bottom of 
the ocean as search for the children 
there. Besides, it is haunted with evil 
spirits." 

'A-ya, A-ya, A-ya !" cried the other, 
"Oh, what will my master and mistress 
say if I return home without Little 
Sleeping Eyes who is the golden plum 
of their hearts." 

"And what will my master and mis- 
tress do to me if I enter their presence 
without Little Waking Eyes. I verily 
believe that the sun shines for them only 
when he is around." 

For over an hour the two distracted 
servants walked up and down the beach, 
calling the names of their little charges ; 
but there was no response. 

V 

Under the quiet stars they met — the 
two old men who had quarrelled in 
student days, and who ever since had 
cultivated hate for each other. The cause 
of their quarrel had long since been for- 
gotten ; but in the fertile soil of minds 
irrigated with the belief that the supe- 
rior man hates long and well, the seed 
of hate had germinated and flourished. 
Was it not because of that hate that their 
children were exiles from the homes of 
their fathers — those children who had 
met in a foreign land, and in spite of 
their fathers' hatred, had linked them- 
selves in love. 

They spread their fans before their 
faces, each pretending not to see the 



other, while their servants enquired, 
"What news of the honorable little 
ones?" 

"No news," came the answer from 
either side. 

The old men pondered sadly and 
silently. Finally Liu Jusong said to his 
servants: "I will search in the forest." 

"So also will I," announced Li Wang. 

Liu Jusong lowered his fan. For the 
first time in many years, he allowed his 
eyes to rest on the countenance of his 
old college friend, and that one time 
friend returned his glance. But the ser- 
vant men shuddered : 

"It is the haunted forest," they cried, 
"Oh, honorable masters, venture not 
amongst evil spirits !" 

But old Li Wung laughed them to 
scorn as also did Liu Jusong. 

"Give me a lantern," bade Li W'ang, 
"I will search alone. Thy grandson is 
my grandson and mine is thine." 

"Aye," responded Li Wang. 

And love being stronger than hate, 
the two old men entered the forest to- 
gether, searched for their children to- 
gether and found them together. 

VI 

"How many moons, Liu Venti, since 
our little ones went from us?" sighed 
Pau Tsu. 

She was pale and sad and in her eyes 
was a yearning expression that had not 
been always there. 

"Nearly five," returned Liu Venti. 

"Sometimes," said Pau Tsu, "I feel I 
cannot any Jonger bear their absence." 

She took from her bosom two little 
shoes, one red, one blue. 

"Their first," said she, O my sons, my 
little sons !" 

"Now, dear wife," said Liu Venti, 
"You must not grieve like that. The 
little ones are happy and all will some 
day be well." 

A messenger boy approached, handed 
Liu Venti a message and slipped away. 

Liu Venti read: 

"May the bamboo ever wave. Son 
and daughter, return to your parents and 
your children." 

Liu Jusong, 
Li Wang. 



The Harvard Aviation Meet 



By JOHN LUCE 



THE Russian army had vanished 
from Dalny. Like a thread of 
low lying mist wafted by an east 
wind over the marshes its gray 
columns of beared infantry had wound 
their way over the mountain plains to 
lose themselves in the horizon. The 
Japanese had come, a countless horde 
sweeps on to their destined victory. "The 
City of far Away" impassively sped the 
parting and greeted the coming guest. 
Months pass, the war is done. The little 
brown men of science and business with 
their American College educations and 
lean brown hands took off their uniforms 
and began cleaning up the city, building 
factories and banks and railroads while 
the mountaineer peasants crept back to 
their fields, leveled the breastworks and 
bomb proofs which traversed them in 
every direction, and patiently began plow- 
ing their fields again and bringing the 
varied produce of the country to market. 
A little more than a year ago Hung 
Chu sat in his shop near the corner of 
what in the old days before the island 
men came back used to be the red dragon 
street of Dalney, quietly smoking his 
long reed pipe in peace and comfort, im- 
passively ruminating on the diverse 
ways of the nervous little invaders 
who, having changed everything else, 
had now informed Hung Chu and his 
fellow citizens that they no longer lived 
in Dalny, "The Far Away," but in the 
brand new city of Tairen. When the 
complicity of problems that he was turn- 
ing over in his mind became wearisome, 
Hung Chu turned his thoughts in the 
more profitable direction of a well filled 
warehouse in the rear of the shop and 
particularly to certain bales of wild silk 
or pongee which for some unaccountable 
reason seemed to be advancing in price, 
when by all the laws of precedent a de- 



cline was due. Twice had the agent of 
the big Japanese trades company at 
Chefoo made an offer for the silk ; twice 
had Hung Chu meditated and declined. 
Early that morning before his second 
pipeful had been finished the insistant 
agent had made his third visit, his third 
advance in his bid, and Hung Chu had 
nodded and the silk was waiting now for 
the porters to carry it away, while he 
wondered and wondered what had come 
over the merchants of Chefoo to offer 
such monstrous prices at this time of 
year "for pongee in the brand new city 
of Tairen which he thought after all 
might be a better place to live in than 
Dalny. Far afield indeed would the 
merchant's thoughts have had to stray 
to hit on the right explanation of the rise 
in pongee, and yet it was simple. An 
aeroplane had flown across the English 
channel from France. The conquest of 
the air had began in earnest. Men of 
science, sportsmen, governments, armies 
and navies were rushing the construction 
of monoplanes and biplanes and triplanes 
and dirigibles and wanted the strong light 
web of the plebean Manteurean silk- 
worm that feeds on the oak leaves, to 
make the wings of the aircraft from, and 
the silk market of Chefoo was already 
stripped bare by the demand. 

The convincing and spectacular dem- 
onstrations of controlable aerial navi- 
gation whose echoes even stirred the 
placid currents of far away Manturian 
trade gave an impetus to this most mod- 
ern of sciences which in the last two 
years has placed to its credit a more 
rapid development in efficiency of appar- 
atus and a more sensational record of 
constant advance in the scope of its 
practical demonstrations than has ever 
marked the infancy of any new class of 
invention. 

28 



THE HARVARD AVIATION MEET 



29 



From a flight sustained for eight sec- 
onds and covering 189 feet made by 
Santos Dumont in 1907, the records 
have increased remarkably until recently 
distance flights of hundreds of miles 
have been made, and heights of over a 
mile attained. 

The kite, for centuries fluttering in 
the shifty air currents as a toy for chil- 
dren, had evolved into a man carrying 
craft of untold possibilities, firing the 
imaginations of the civilized world and 



The Harvard Aero Meet presents a 
number of features quite distinct from 
those which have characterized previous 
contests of the same kind either in 
Europe or America. It is the first to 
be held under the auspices of a great 
university and while from the nature of 
the demonstrations to be made the spec- 
tacular and sensational events will fol- 
low each other in rapid succession on the 
program, there is behind it all the serious 
purpose of accademic investigation in- 




em* 




Leaving the starting rail on the first flight of the Wright power 
machine at kltty h.\wk, dec 1/ 



drawing to its service the enthusiastic 
aid of men of science as they patiently 
settled down to the task of investigation 
and invention. Quick to respond to the 
call for careful and trained investigators 
of the scientific problems confronting the 
process of aviation was a group of pro- 
fessors and students of Harvard Uni- 
versity which from a very modest asso- 
ciation working out the theoretical prob- 
lems of aeronautics has developed into 
the famous Harvard Aeronautical So- 
ciety which is about to hold the most im- 
portant Avitation Meet ever attempted 
in America if not in the world. 



tent on showing the American public the 
wonderful strides recently made in avi- 
tation and at the same time to -add to 
the constantly growing mass of scientific 
data on which future developments of 
construction and manipulation may be 
based. 

Then again the contests previously 
held in this country almost without ex- 
ception have been limited to the exploita- 
tion of machines of a single type con- 
trolled by individual inventors and manu- 
facturers. No such limitations will re- 
strict the present Meet which is open to 
all comers and every type of aerial craft. 



30 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Group of Wright aviators, Orville Wright third from left 



Here at last will be brought in direct com- 
petition and comparison every famous 
type of machine operated by the sky 
men. French, German, English and 
American aviators have girded them- 
selves for the fray and with the very 
best appliances these various types of 
machines are capable of developing have 
entered these truly Olympian games. 

The date of the Meet is set for Sept. 
3rd to 13th after a careful examination 
of the recorded prevailing air currents ob- 
served by the meteorological stations in 
the vicinity of Boston, that time of the 
year offering statistically at least the 
highest promise of furnishing conditions 
favorable to the establishment of new 
world'- records by the aviators. With 
equal care the field itself has been 
selected. An entirely unobstructed level 
plain bordering on Dorchester Bay near 
the mouth of the Neponset river in the 
Boston suburb of Atlantic. Here the 
Harvard Aeronautical Society will con- 



duct its field experiments and hold its 
Meets for years to come, having secured 
the property by lease for a long term of 
years. By the erection of suitable ob- 
servation stands for spectators, accomo- 
dations of the most approved type for air 
ships and aviators, and a special plant 
for the manufacture of hydrogen gas for 
balloons and the dirigible type of air- 
craft, it will be by far the best and most 
completely equipped aerial park in Amer- 
ica. 

The programme of the Meet which has 
been arranged by a contest committee 
consists of Charles J. Glidden, Chairman ; 
T. E. Byrnes, Hugh Bancroft, Cortlandt 
F. Bishop of New York, President Aero 
Club of America ; A. B. Lambert,- St. 
Louis, Mo., Prof. R. W. Wilson and A. 
A. Merrill, includes a series of distance 
races and ascensions for altitude records, 
by hydrogen gas balloons ; also a long 
list of competitions by amateur and 
novice avitators for valuable prizes of 



THE HARVARD AVIATION' MFFT 



31 



plate and special awards of merit. That 
this division of the programme is likely 
to furnish not only the most sensational 
competition in flight but to bring for- 
ward novelties in the principle of certain 
construction details both in the motive 
force employed and general style of the 
aeroplanes used is predicted confidently 
by those most familiar with the wide 
range of experiment being carried on by 
the large number of amateurs throughout 
the country. That the amateurs are a 
force to be reckoned with even by the 
most learned professionals is obvious, 
when it is recalled that they number in 
their ranks, DeLesseps, Harkness, and 
Harmon who have made notable records, 
and Drexel who at Lanark, Scotland, on 
August 13 of this year driving his mon- 
oplane up beyond the vision of the 
anxious spectators until lost above the 
clouds, shattered the records for altitude 
by attaining a height of 6,750 feet, sur- 
passing the performance of the daring 
Brookins made at Atlantic City on July 
8, who went 6,175 feet. 

Coming to the open competitions the 
committee offers a list of events com- 
pletely covering the range of demonstrat- 
able aviation skill and a list of cash 



prizes, exceeding by more than $20,000 
the highest total ever offered on similar 
occasions. While additional contests are 
to be arranged during the Meet, the lisi 
officially announced and for which en- 
tries have been made is as follows: 





First 


Second 


Third 


Speed 


$3,000 


$2,000 


$1,000 


Altitude 


3,000 


2,000 


1,000 


Duration 


2,000 


1,000 




Distance 


2,000 


1,000 




Slowest lap 


1,000 


500 






First 


Second 


Third 


Getaway 


$100 


$50 




Accuracy 


500 


250 





The Boston Globe prize for the fastest 
time between the Aviation Field, Sol- 
dier's Field and Boston Light and return 
$10,000. 

Harvard Cup for the best record drop- 
ping bombs on battleship outline during 
Meet $5,000. 

In case of world's records being broken 
in any one of these events, $1,000 will be 
added to the first prizes as above. 

As will be seen the premier events and 

prizes of the Meet is for the best record 

against time made over the triangular 

course from the Harvard Aviation Field 

at Atlantic to the Stadium on Soldier's 




"The Aeroplane Neck" of crowd of 250,000 people watchixg Glexx H. 
Curtis fly over the ocean at Atlantic City, July 4, 1910. 



32 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Field thence to Boston Light, situated 
well down Boston harbor, and back to 
the starting place, a distance of 28 miles. 
Nothing more spectacular than this 
contest for which the Boston Globe 




Glenn H. Curtiss 

through General Charles H. Taylor has 
offered a prize of $10,000 could well be 
conceived. The first leg of the course 
will bring the aviators in flight across the 
heart of the city of Boston, on the second 
they will pass down and over the Charles 
river basin and the harbor and having 
rounded the historic old light which has 
welcomed the world's incoming com- 
merce to Massachusetts Bay for gener- 
ations, the bird men will spread their 
wings for the return to Atlantic. As this 
is a time record contest the aviators are 
allowed to traverse the course as often 
as they see fit during the Meet between 



stated hours when the observation offi- 
cials will be at their posts, and each day 
will doubtless see a number of flights 
made for this valuable prize. 

Second only in its spectacular features 
to the Globe prize contest is that for the 
Harvard Cup to which is added $5,000 
in a bomb dropping contest from air 
craft with a view to the demonstration 
of the availibility of this form of defence 
against naval attack. While the last two 
general sessions at the Hague have stipu- 
lated that this form of defensive or 
offensive warfare is outlawed and al- 
though the United States in common 
with most of the principle nations with 
the exception of Germany and Switzer- 
land, has signed a convention to that 
effect, yet military and naval circles are 
confident that in the event of active hos- 
tilities the exegencies of natural preser- 
vation will cause the agreement to be 
entirely disregarded and that air ships of 
war will play a most important part in 
the operations of the contending nations, 
whoever they may be. 

Through the Secretary of the Navy, 
Mr. George Von L. Meyer, Mr. Adams 
D. Claflin % the manager of the Meet and 
by the way the son of a distinguished 
Governor of Massachusetts, has been in- 
formed that a detail of naval offfers will 
be sent to Boston to observe during the 
Meet the progress of this contest par- 
ticularly. That the army will also be 
officially represented there is no doubt 
and as is well known military observers 
from most of the continental powers 
have a habit of unexpectedly, and quite 
accidentally in fact, turning up at all 
aviation meets of importance. While the 
exact conditions of this contest are held 
in abeyance, pending the arrival on the 
ground of the naval experts, it will doubt- 
less take the form of dropping dummy 
bombs on a full sized battleship out- 
lines from rapidly moving aeroplanes, 
the points counting for the aviators 
being a combination of hits, speed of 
passage over the target and altitude from 
which the projectile is discharged. So 
far in practice no very satisfactory re- 
sults have been obtained as the eleva- 
tion from which accurate target practice 
has been tried is so low as to have ex- 
posed the avitators to theoretical de- 



THE HARVARD AVIATION MEET 



33 



struction from the discharge of small 
arms long before they had reached a 
point from which their own fire would 
become effective. However, it is to de- 
velop the possibilities of such attack and 
to gain the utmost experience in the con- 
ditions necessary for its successful ex- 
ecution that the Harvard Aeronautical 
Society is making so prominent a feature 
of that event. 

The improved atmospheric conditions 
usually found in the latter part of the 
afternoon and early evening have led to 
the scheduling of most of the compe- 
tions for that part of the day, although 
admission to the park may be obtained 
at any time, and the morning hours will 
be full of interest to the more serious 
observers as that time will be devoted 
by the aviators to tuning up their craft, 
and to trial flights in preparation for the 
actual competitions, affording an excel- 
lent opportunity for the visitor to ex- 
amine the mechanism of the machines 
and methods of operation. 

Attracted by the scientific importance 
of the Meet and the generous prizes by 
the Harvard Society and its associates 
the list of entries is by far the largest 
both in point of foreign and American 
aviators of prominence that has ever 
been secured in America. For these ten 
days of early September, New England 
will be the Mecca toward which every- 
one interested in aviation will expectant- 
ly turn in the hope of seeing surpassed 
the already astonishing records of pro- 
gress made in the recent foreign compe- 
titions. With such men at Harvard 
Aviation Field as C. Grahame-White, 



Glenn H. Curtiss, Charles F. Willard, 
Arthur Johnstone, Walter Brookins, A. 
V. Roe, Clifford B. Harmon, Didier 
Masson and William M. Hilliard and 
with such fine equipment as that with 
which they have provided themselves for 
this Meet, it would be most unexpected 
should a number of new and even sen- 
sational records not be made. 

That the widespread interest in the 
Meet will find expression in the attend- 
ance of an unprecedented number of 
spectators is to be expected and not- 
withstanding the very great commitments 
by the society in the matter of prizes and 
for the expense of laying out the field the 
net return, it is thought, will be consider- 
able. This surplus is to be devoted to 
the establishment on a permanent or 
scientific basis of a department of aero- 
nautics at Harvard University, assuring 
to New England a position of import- 
ance in the future of the development of 
the newest of arts which is well in keep- 
ing with her long record of activity in 
the affairs of social advancement. 

That the Meet has the endorsement of 
Boston's leading business men is shown 
by the following who are heartily co- 
operating with Manager Adams D.Claflin 
for its success : — Pres. A. Lawrence 
Lowell, Prof. A. L. Rotch, Robert Win- 
sor, Lieut.-Gov. L. A. Frothingham, Hon. 
W. A.Gaston, J. E. Thayer, F. P. Fish, S. 

E. Winslow, P. D. Haughton, B. J. Roth- 
well, J. L. Richards, J. J. Storrow, C. J. 
Glidden, Ex-Gov. Curtis Guild, Jr., C. 

F. Adams, 2d, Hon. J. F. Fitzgerald, 
Gen. W. A. Bancroft and A. Shuman. 





By JOHN F. BENYON 

NEXT to the tariff, the question of Colonel Roosevelt's 
position in the Republican party is the topic of 
greatest interest* The writer can positively state that 
Colonel Roosevelt is neither a u regular " nor an * insurgent n 
— Roosevelt is what can be properly termed a Roosevelt Re- 
publican — which means that he stands for all that is best in 
political economy, and for an honest, forceful and harmonious 
Republican organization* At present his greatest ambition is 
to solidly unify the " regular n and u insurgent " elements of 
the party ; and to this end, he is devoting nearly all his time, 
energy and tremendous influence* 

As a private citizen, Colonel Roosevelt has today as much 
influence and power as he had when President* His opinions 
and statements are daily heralded throughout the country, 
and his personal following is greater now than ever before. At 
his home in Oyster Bay, or at the u Outlook office/' Colonel 
Roosevelt is constantly surrounded by the reporters of the press 
associations and of the metropolitan dailies* Leading poli- 
ticians, — regulars, insurgents and Democrats — are in daily 
consultation with him* It is safe to say that his intimate 
knowledge of the national and state political situations of the 
country is not equalled by that of any other man* 




*7fIS J.yozrrrq-~ 




Such men as Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, Governor Hughes* 
as well as the most radical leading- insurgents are in close 
friendly touch with Roosevelt, and it is through and bv his 
friendly relationship with the leaders of both factions of the 
party that Colonel Roosevelt hopes to reunite the warring 
elements to the end that the Republican party may once more 
become the great political power of the country. This, today, 
is the work that Roosevelt is doing with all his great heart, 
tremendous energy and marvelous executive ability — that he 
will accomplish the task there is no doubt, and, in doing so, he 
will re-establish business confidence and sound, sane Republican 
doctrine. 

It is not too much for us to expect Roosevelt to reunite the 
Republican party* The following quotation from Emerson 
might well have been especially written about our great leader : 
44 The force of character is cumulative. All the foregone days 
work their strength into this. What makes the majesty of 
our heroes? It is the consciousness of a train of great days 
and victories behind. That it is which throws thunder into 
Chatham's voice, dignity into Washington's port and America 
into Adam's eye." Behind Roosevelt's popularity and power 
is a long record of extraordinary service — service for the 
people and fearless honesty. 

Theodore Roosevelt during his Presidency was systematic- 
ally and aggressively progressive. Tirelessly active, absolutely 
honest, and intensely in earnest in his determination that 
4 equality before the law" and "equality of opportunity" 
should be translated from rhetorical phrases into realized facts. 
His work in uncovering, and thereby checking the great politi- 
cal evils of the time, and educating the people in politics and 
economics has never been equalled by any other President. 
No other President so comprehensively combined investigation, 
instruction and specific demand for vital remedies. He insisted 
that the people should know the whole truth in regard to men 
and conditions, and he constantly advocated the sound funda- 
mental principles of economics. The result is that the people 
now demand better government, higher business standards, 
cleaner morals — and a united Roosevelt Republican party. 




*7ftS s vazrrra. ' 



Maeterlinck's Blue Bird" 



By ETHEL SYFORD 



SYMBOLISM is the oldest art- 
process. It is older than art it- 
self. When man uttered the first 
laugh, made the first gestures, 
spoke the first word or danced the first 
steps, symbolism was born. At the very 
first, these were artistic inasmuch as they 
were natural, sincere, though partially 
repressed expression of some revelation 
of the infinite.. Society is dependent 
upon commonly recognizable signs and 
much that was symbolic in its primal es- 
sence and much that was artistic has be- 
come so definitized that it is a mere con- 
vention. And it is because Symbolism 
suffered this death that we now distin- 
guish between the rhetoric and facts of 
the realist and the repression and subtler 
suggestion of the symbolist. Carlyle has 
referred to symbols as a concealment 
and yet a revelation and says that 
by Silence and Speech acting together 
comes a double significance. 

Symbolism is the inevitable manner, — 
either occasionally or dominantly, — of 
every great imagination. It is a telling 
fact that America has made but little use 
of this art-process. 

Some one has concluded that Sym- 
bolism is merely another name for mys- 
ticism. In the realm of literature and 
art it is true that mystics are symbolists, 
as a rule, and impressionists often. But 
it is not true that all symbolists are 
mystics. Mysticism is a conception, an 
interpretation. Symbolism and impres- 
sionism are methods of expression. 
Maeterlinck is a mystic, a symbolist and 
impressionist. Ibsen was a symbolist but 
in no sense a mystic or impressionist. 
Beethoven was a symbolist. Richard 
Wagner, in his later dramas, is mystic 
and symbolist and one of the greatest of 
all art. Richard Strauss is a symbolist 
but not a mystic. Rodin is a mystic and 
36 



symbolist. Debussy is a mystic, sym- 
bolist and impressionist. Cesar Franck 
was mystic and symbolist. Fritz Erler 
in his triptych, "The Plague," was sym- 
bolist but not mystic or impressionist. 
Rostand's Chantecler is symbolism but 
not mysticism. The whole trend of 
modern German literature is toward sym- 
bolism but this does not in any way imply 
mysticism. 

It is impossible to unroll the tapestry 
of the past and not find the threads of 
mysticism woven throughout. It will 
always be so. It is inevitable that science 
and materialism and creed have not, 
cannot and never will solve the problem 
of the seen and the unseen cosmos. The 
strength of mysticism is born of this very 
helplessness. It is against the stone wall 
of mysticism that materialism and science 
continually bump their heads. When we 
realize that the accidents and cacophony 
of events of the seen and tangible world 
are not the reality of life, that occasional 
intuitive convictions and inferences are 
more powerful conclusions than scien- 
tific gropings, that the hymn of the woods 
and the sea is nearer to a singing of the 
synthesis of things than the decisions of 
the civil court or the facts of geology, or 
where we experience the revelation of a 
kiss, or a sunset, or while drinking in 
silent solitude the silence of the night and 
the heavens we have for a brief instant 
felt the joy of an intimate closeness to 
the great mystery of the universe, — at 
each and all of these times we are to 
some small extent, the mystic. A mystic 
realizes that the soul does not judge nor 
conclude as our worldly consciousness 
forms conclusions. A mystic realizes 
that the perceptions and conceptions of 
the soul are as real and unmistakable as 
the perceptions recorded by the senses. 
Professor HofTding of Copenhagen, at a 



MAETERLINCK'S "BLUE BIRD" 



37 




Maurice Maeterlinck 



congress of psychologists about a year 
ago said that since the most important 
problems are beyond the reach of man's 
reasoning powers, the search for ultimate 
reality leads inevitably to mysticism. 
Occasionally nature has given us, in the 
form of a seeming abnormality, a par- 
tially non-sensed person (Helen Keller, 
for example), a literal evidence of the 
unfailing power of the unseeing and the 
unseen world. All down the ages we 
have had those who have listened at- 
tentively to every realization of the in- 
tangible world and the silent expressive- 
ness of the mystery of the universe, and 
distanced themselves as far as possible 
from the cacophonous arguments of the 
senses in regard to the material world. 
Jesus was a mystic, and St. Paul likewise, 



St. Francis of Assisi, St. Theresa : 
Thomas a Kempis said, "Blessed the 
ears which receive the instillings of the 
divine whisper and take no note of the 
whisperings of the world." 

This is a most opportune moment to 
say that a fallacy occurs when Ibsen .and 
Maeterlinck and symbolism and mys- 
ticism are all spoken of in one sentence 
as though there were an identity present. 
Ibsen lived and died without being a wit- 
ness to the unseen world. Ibsen saw that 
there was a satire present in the ethics 
and actions of human life, — especially in 
its civic and domestic relations as they 
are lived. He used symbolism to create 
the illusion of the bald facts of four walls 
which enclosed a tragedy. He is so stub- 
born in laying a tragedy bare that he 



38 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



does not even change the scene. But 
Ibsen got no farther than merely seeing 
that there is satire present in this daily 
life. Maeterlinck does not aim to accen- 
tuate this human society. He aims to 
suggest, and only to suggest, not to ex- 
plain, the wonder and mystery and the 
awe of all this great vibrating universe. 
There is the same difference between 
Ibsen and Maeterlinck that there is 
between the naked as portrayed in art 
and the nude in art. 

There have been two Maeterlincks. 
The writer of "La Princesse Maleine" 
and "Les Aveugles," was as much a 
mystic as the writer of "La Sagesse et la 
Destinee" and "The Blue Bird." s The 
writer of "Les Aveugles" symbolized the 
silence of the unseen world as much then 
as now, but the intuitions were of terror 
and awe and unsolvable fear. Since then 
a gieat and artistic soul in the person of 
Madame Georgette LeBlanc came into 
his life and became his wife and her in- 
fluence has in a large part, wrought the 
change. In "Le Tresor des Humbles," 
"La Sagesse et la Destinee," "Le Double 
Jardin," "Le Temple Enseveli" and "The 
Blue Bird," he is an apostle of the 
beauty and mystery of life, of a wonder- 
ful synthesis of all creation. His art is 
subtly impressionistic, suggestive, calm, 
almost sotto voce. He never becomes 
the dictator of a theory. He voices no 
theory. He raises no problem and solves 
none. He has avoided all chance for con- 
troversy. The illusion which he creates 
is akin to the illusion of nature itself. 
He re-creates the wonder of the cosmos. 
It would be impossible for us to solve it 
and he does not try. It is in this re- 
creation that he is the master. He ac- 
complishes it so skillfully that there is 
room in it for your most intimately ex- 
alted moments. There is no limit to the 
spaciousness of his concepts. Unseeing 
and warped and prosaic minds no doubt 
see none of it and call him a dreamer 
and they think that Maeterlinck, the mys- 
tic means merely Maeterlinck, the mysti- 
fying and vague. Those who have no 
emotional appreciation of the vast or the 
mystery of an all-correlated synthesis 
decide that this mystery is vagueness be- 
cause their consciousness can not record 



it otherwise. The two most evident 
qualities of Maeterlinck's genius are sim- 
plicity and sincerity, — absolute sincerity. 
In "The Treasure of the Humble," "Wis- 
dom and Destiny" and in "The Blue 
Bird" he seems to be utterly devoid of 
any trace of a phantom of personal prej- 
udice. I do not believe any one could 
read far into his genius and not feel that 
he has an intimate as well as a compre- 
hensive understanding of all nature. He 
is not at all concerned with the disson- 
ances of everyday life. Maeterlinck is 
concerned with cosmic harmony, — an all- 
relation of all things and what he has ap- 
prehended he is the subtle artist in 
presenting to us emotionally and harmo- 
niously. Some one has referred to "The 
Blue Bird" as a dream play, another con- 
ceives it a fairy play, another speaks of it 
as Pantheism. I doubt whether Maeter- 
linck is especially concerned with being 
a Pantheist and I am sure that "The 
Blue Bird" is neither fairy play nor 
dreaming to him. He has poetically sum- 
moned the cosmic mystery itself. That is 
the drama. It is no more fairy play or 
dream play than nature's drama is a 
dream or fairy play because it is fused 
with mystery. 

It would be endless to try to define and 
locate the analogies, — as endless as to 
try to definitize analogies in all nature. 
These are symbols of a great mystery 
which does not invite arbitration. Does 
it need to be solved? To appreciate and 
be, to even some extent, intimate with the 
wonder of the mystery, to be able to hear 
and to partially understand the voices of 
the silences, to commune with the mystery. 
the symphony, to feel the flutter of the 
wings of myriads of blue birds close, 
close to us, — illusion beautiful and real, 
even though they die in the light of day, 
to hear the intervening of the harmonies, 
now awful, mysterious, now ineffable 
and a flood of tone and azure light — a 
chaos of harmony, a whirr of azure 
wings, — but listen, the sea of tone is 
resolving, floods of daylight surge about 
and in our ecstacy we have clung to the 
blue birds. But ah, the mysteries of 
silence and of night are not vibrant in 
the light of day. It is the mystery that 
is blue, to solve it is to change the blue. 



MAETERLINCK'S "BLUE BIRD" 



39 



to kill the mystery. The birds are dead. 
The sea of harmony becomes purely 
technical. The chords resolve. 

A forest nocturne, a murmuring in the 
leaves, — it is the poplar, — no one has 
ever fully comprehended the mystery of 
the forest. A murmuring in the leaves, — 
it is the oak, old moss covered majesty, — 
the murmuring becomes more mystery- 



ly forward. He is fabulously old, crown- 
ed with mistletoe and clad in a long 
green gown edged with moss and lichen. 
He is blind ; his white beard streams in 
the wind. He leans on a knotty stick and 
with the other on a young oakling, who 
serves as his guide. The blue bird is 
perched on his shoulder. At his ap- 
proach the other trees draw themselves 




Marguerite Clark who plays Tyltyl 



full, the blue bird, the secret, hovers near, 
surely — a murmuring in the leaves, — the 
fir tree ! A murmuring in the leaves, — the 
beech ! — mystery, silence ; but the silence 
is full of voices. They seem to tell of 
secrets which we do not know. The 
silence becomes so eloquent that there 
seem to be voices everywhere. They 
seem no longer to be trees but souls com- 
ing nearer to, communing with our own. 
Ah, here is a vision (Maeterlinck is a 
wondrous painter here). Here comes 
the oak! He has been with man since 
all time of earth. "The oak comes slow- 



up in a row and bow respectfully." It 
is this great, stately, patriarchal figure 
which comes nearest to suggesting the 
secret which this forest holds. But the 
wonder increases. Here all around us 
are the only living things which have 
known the secret since the origin of life. 
There is no longer merely murmurings in 
the leaves. Here stand about us and 
tower above us these voices of the silence. 
We know the blue bird is here but they 
do not choose to speak of that. They 
seem to become more awe-full. They 
overwhelm us. We can not begin to in- 



40 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



terpret this mystery. We are before liv- 
ing forces that know more of this mys- 
tery than we. We are vanquished. The 
silence of the forest at night is awful. 
Ah, here comes the light of day to bring 
us back to day-life. ''What was the mat- 
ter with them ? Were they mad ?" "No, 
they are always like that ; but we do not 
know it because we do not see it." 

It is night again, night in a graveyard. 
The moon is shining. Here rest the dead. 
We shiver, the instinctive dread of all life 
is death. Why don't the dead talk? Be- 
cause they have nothing to say. Why 
have they nothing to say? We don't 
know, we don't know. We are not so 
afraid and we have nothing to say. A 
terrifying minute of silence and motion- 
lessness elapses and out of the silence the 
mystery seems to take shape. We seem 
to hear a far-away phantom of Rhythm, 
mystic and undefined. It seems to rise 
and become a part of the air but it is the 
sound of far away muted strings, pul- 
sant, a monotonal wave, pale and efflor- 
escent ; and now the wave becomes more 
vibrant, it pulsates more freely, the 
strings wave over each other, the mono- 
tone is a mere background and the alto 
violins and violas seem to flow and soar. 
On and on the tonal wave spreads and 
rises until a flood of light seems to 
spread over all, a flood of rhythm, tone 
quivering on tone, the flutes and piccolos 
melt into the flood of tone, the wave of 
tone, — never a single voice defined, 
harmonies unresolved, ever a sea of mys- 
tery, a flooding sea, — now shimmering 
like the dew, now the entoning of burst- 
ing flowers, and now the pulsant mur- 
muring of the leaves and now a flood of 
sunshine and all life. The harmony 
floods on, ever unresolved. We step for- 
ward, are fused into it. We have com- 
muned with the voice of another silence. 
Where are the dead ? There are no dead. 

This is Maeterlinck, the artist of tone. 
This passage is music absolutely. Note 
how pulsatingly rhythmic. "Then from 
all the gaping tombs there rises gradually 
an efflorescence at first frail and timid 
like steam ; then white and virginal and 
more and more tufty, more and more tall 
and plentiful and marvellous. Little by 
little, irresistibly, invading all things, it 



transforms the graveyard into a sort of 
fairy-like and nuptial garden, over which 
rise the first rays of the dawn. The dew 
glitters, the flowers open their bloom, the 
wind murmurs in the leaves, the bees 
hum, the birds wake and flood the air 
with the first raptures of their hymns to 
the sun and to life." 

The kingdom of the future, — the im- 
mense halls of the azure palace where 
the children wait that are yet to be born. 
Sapphire columns support ■ turquoise 
vaults, — everything, from the flagstones 
to the shimmering background, every- 
thing down to the smallest objects, is of 
an unreal, intense, fairy-like blue. Be- 
tween the columns are great opalescent 
doors which time will throw back, open- 
ing upon actual life and the quays of the 
dawn. Everywhere are crowds of chil- 
dren robed in long azure garments. Some 
are playing, many asleep, others are 
working away at the inventions and 
ideas which they are to bear with them to 
earth, for none go forth into dawn empty 
handed. All is a supernatural and lumin- 
ous blue. The mystery of the un-born. 
The land from which none go forth until 
prepared. Here comes Time to open the 
doors. "The great opalescent doors turn 
slowly on their hinges. The sounds of 
the earth are heard like a distant music. 
A red and green light penetrates into the 
hall ; Time, a tall old man with a stream- 
ing beard, armed with his scythe and 
hour glass, appears upon the threshold ; 
and we perceive the extremity of the 
white and gold sails of a galley moored 
to a sort of quay, formed by the rosy 
mists of the dawn. Time asks, "Are they 
ready whose hour has struck?" Blue 
children elbow their way and run up 
from all sides. One by one old Time 
picks out the ones whose turn it is. One 
child is missing. "Come on you little 
fellow whom they call the lover, say 
goodbye to your sweetheart." The two 
children called the Lovers, fondly en- 
twined, their faces livid with despair, go 
up to Time and kneel at his feet with 
despair. 

THE FIRST CHILD. Let me stay 
behind with her! 

THE SECOND CHILD. Let me go 
with him ! 



MAETERLINCK'S "BLUE BIRD"' 



41 



TIME. Impossible ! 

FIRST CHILD. I would rather not 
be born ! 

TIME. You cannot choose. 

SECOND CHILD (beseechingly). 
Mr. Time, I shall come too late ! 

FIRST CHILD. I shall be gone be- 
fore she comes down ! 

SECOND CHILD. I shall never see 
him again ! 

FIRST CHILD. We shall be alone in 
the world! 



THE SECOND CHILD stretches out 
her arms frantically to the child that is 

being carried off. A sign ! A sign ! 

Tell me how to find you ! 

FIRST CHILD. I shall always love 
you! 

SECOND CHILD. I shall be the 
saddest thing on earth ! You will know 
me by that ! 

(She falls and remains stretched on 
the ground.) 

TIME. You would do much better to 
hope 



Time shakes his keys and his scythe. 
The anchor is raised. The sails of the 
galley pass and disappear. The voices of 
the children in the galley are heard in the 
distance : 

"The Earth ! The Earth ! .... I can see 
it ! How beautiful it is ! How bright it 
is! How big it is!" Then, as though 
issuing from the depths of the abyss, an 
extremely distant song of gladness and 
expectation. Ah, what is it we hear. It 
is voices singing, singing. It sounds like 
other voices. Ah, it is the song of the 
mothers coming out to meet them ; and 
Time closes the opalescent doors. Surely 
this mystery can not be solved. Every- 
thing was blue here, — everything; and 
we are filled with wonder. The voice of 
another silence has been eloquent. What 
an experience, a revelation, the mystery 
— eloquence, of each voice has been and 
how many birds and how blue they all 
seemed! But the mystery is too great, 
too complex, too rhythmic to be com- 
pletely sensed. It is the fusing, the 
harmony, the all-mystery that is the mys- 
terious secret. The voices of the un- 



seen silences are expressive and eloquent 
but they come from diaphonous throats 
which can not be throttled. But for once 
we have listened attentively to the won- 
drousness, surely that in itself is quite 
near to capturing the blue bird, for it is 
a unique experience. So what matters it 
that the bird which was blue with the 
mystery of memory turned black when 
we took it away and into the light of day, 
and those of the night died for the won- 
ders of the night are so different rhyth- 
mically than those of day and the future 
in the light of day will ever be quite 
pink and its bird blue with mystery is no 
longer blue in the Daylight and the forest 
was so full of mystery that we were 
overwhelmed completely. 

But we will sit down, perhaps, some 
evening beside the springs of the forest 
and once more feel out their mystery. 
And here we are back into the day life! 
Why, it does not seem as prosaic after all, 
everything is fresher and happier ; but 
we can not quite become a part of it yet, 
we still feel the mystery of the voices of 
the silences. But it is of no use to speak 
of this ecstatic intimacy which we have 
experienced, — not even to our closest re- 
lations. They would not Understand. 
They would think we were ill or that we 
were still half asleep and were dream- 
ing. But this everyday world seems so 
much brighter! What if there should be 
a blue bird here! Perhaps here are 
unseen silent voices after all. Here comes 
a neighbour whose little girl longs most 
of all for a bird out of this very day 
light, she longs for it most of all things. 
Perhaps the day light of life is all 
rhythmic with wonder, another mystery 
of the great silence. This turtle dove of 
mine seems quite blue. There is a mys- 
tery full of secrets here and to think that 
the little girl knew he was blue all along. 
She came out of the land of the unborn 
children with more of its blue halo 
around her than I ; but I have listened 
since and heard the voices and now day's 
bird seems quite blue. Perhaps I shall 
hear more and he will become bluer. But 
there will always be some people who 
think I am only playing at being happy. 
To think that the little girl knew all about 
my bird. He seems bluer to her than he 



42 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



does to me, even yet; but then she has 
always been fuller of the blue than I, I 
have only recently learned of the mystery 
of the unseen voices and the mystic blue. 
But see, he has flown away from us, and 
the little girl of the intuitive voice wanted 
him so much. Yes, day light and day life 
has a great secret too. It is full of the 
mystery and we can not stop its blue 
bird's flight. All, all is rhythmic motion, 
a symphonic ocean, and everywhere, 
everywhere blue birds. Never mind if 
this day-blue-bird did fly away. It is 
the knowing that day has a blue bird that 
matters. To have caught it was no 
greater joy than to know that it was 
there. Are you sorry that you may listen 
to the silences? On and on moves the 
great harmony ; on and on mystery after 
mystery; here and there blue birds, blue 
birds. Listen to the unseen voices of the 
silences and the vital, the expressive in- 
stances of existence are eloquent, the blue 
birds of the mysteries and of day hover 
close to you. But as you feel the ecstacy 
of these vital moments and you feel the 
bird close in your hand, let him fly, fly, 
soar. Mystery is eternal, happiness is 
rhythmic. There are no dropped beats 
in the rhythm. Let the blue bird go. 
Happiness needs him in motion and a 
part of the rhythm. All, all is well, — 
forever, well. 

The Blue Bird is to be presented at the 
New Theatre, beginning September 17. 
Miss Marguerite Clark is to appear as 
Tyltyl. Much pains has been taken with 
the production. 

This drama is so great that the wonder 
of it unfolds like the crescence of dawn- 
ing light. Its concept is consummate and 
big ; like a very spacious space it will hold 
every one. You will draw out of its 
depths as much as there is in yourself, 
and no more. It will be most wondrous 



to children because it is a wonder-tale, to 
them. And little folk will mayhap, come 
nearer to its genuineness than some pro- 
saic and un-seeing older folk, or the New 
Yorker who is steeped in problem plays 
of his own or of the stage, — these latter 
will see in the Blue Bird a fascinating 
spectacular display and they will un- 
doubtedly remark that the plot does not 
amount to much. Then there is the 
moralist who will go around with a most 
benign "one ought" for her neighbour 
and will whale-bone her assertion with, 

"Don't you remember how in the Blue 
Bird, etc. ;" and the New Thoughtist and 
the Christian Scientist will forget it all 
but a certain several spots which speak 
of the enfeebled sicknesses and they will 
want Maeterlinck for their cult. The 
fatalist will be able to prove his theories 
of pi edestination by certain passages and 
the "Blue Bird" will reduce itself to that 
for him, and the Socialist notes how 
Tyltyl gives away his bird and remarks 
that the parting with one's property is the 
leal happiness. 

Cosmic philosophy and cosmic truth 
are greater than any "ism" or any 
science, and these latter are only sparse 
gleanings from the richness. Then there 
is the half-philosopher who sees in 
it one motive only — the search for hap- 
piness and because the blue bird gets 
away, he decides that the work wanes at 
the end ; and the literature professor who 
will try to dissect it into much method 
with 'some madness and who will have 
much to say about the work being 
motivated with rather a trite theme. Then 
there will be the few who will realize that 
it is very much a drama of existence done 
in subtlest symbolism by a great mystic 
whose soul sees very keenly the realities 
of existence. 




Reminiscences of Denman Thompson 

By WILLIAM H. WALSH 

"Why the robins in the maples an' the blackbird 'roun' the pond, 

The crickets an' the locusts in the leaves, 
The brook that chased the trout adown the hillside jest beyond 

An' the swallers in their nests beneath the eaves 
They all come troopin' back with you, dear Josh today, 

An' they seem to sing with all the joyous zest 
Of the days when we were Yankee boys and girls at play, 

With nary thought of livin' way out West 
God bless you, Denman Thompson, for the good y' do our hearts 

With this music an' these memories o' youth, 
God bless ye for the faculty that tops all human arts 

The good ol' Yankee faculty of Truth." 

Eugene Field. 



IF I were asked for a bright and 
shining example of a green old age, 
of faculties unimpaired in mind and 
body till one has approached the 
grand climacteric, I would name Den- 
man Thompson, the patriarch of the 
American stage, and the grand old man 
of the theatrical profession. He has 
lived more than the allotted span of life. 
He will on the 15th day of October next 
arrive at his 77th mile stone, continuing 
hale and hearty, happy and contented 
in the enjoyment of what Dr. Johnson 
aptly calls "the sunshine of life." 

Few 20th century names in the dra- 
matic profession of the United States 
are crowned with so many fairly won 
honors as that of Denman Thompson. 
An actor by profession and inclination, 
philanthropic in his nature, generous to 
extreme, his integrity is as immovable 
as a mountain of adamant. In growing 
old Denman Thompson has acquired 
what might be called the look of 
goodness. Looking into his ruddy, 
wrinkled face contrasting with the 
snowy whiteness of his hair, one gets 
the impression of a very young old man 
who seems now all tenderness and 
affection, at peace with the world, follow- 
ing carefully the precepts of the Golden 



Rule. And yet he is eminently practical 
withal, particularly in business matters 
relating to his profession, in fact, in 
everything except family affairs. When 
Mr. Thompson speaks about his family, 
his son, the girls, and his grandchildren, 
his whole face lights up, his beautiful 
paternal pride and affection for even 
more than he is "Joshua Whitcomb," 
and a fine old actor, Denman Thompson 
is a fine old father. He is simply 
wrapped up in his home and family. He 
has three children, Vene, now Mrs. Mac- 
Farland, Annie, now Mrs. Kilpatrick, 
and Francis, his son, who manages "The 
Old Homestead." He has several grand- 
children, the youngest being a four 
months' old baby son of Mr. and Mrs. 
Francis Thompson. 

Up at West Swanzey, six miles below 
Keene, New Hampshire, is the original 
"Old Homestead," but since made over 
and modernized into an ideal country 
home. The village itself is a cluster of 
old-fashioned houses with two or three 
stores, a couple of churches, a school- 
house, a blacksmith shop and a grist mill, 
the latter turned by the waters of a 
brook. The Thompson family all live 
but a stone's throw from Denman, Mrs. 
Kilpatrick and Mrs. MacFarland having 

43 



44 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



. -, 




Denman Thompson's latest portrait 



each handsome places in the grove near 
the lake, while Franklin, his son and 
business manager, lives in a very attrac- 
tive house on the borders of the lake. 
Millions of people have seen Swanzey, 
the village portrayed on the stage, for 
it is the scene of "The Old Homestead" 
which has been played almost as many 
times as Uncle Tom's Cabin, or Rip 
Van Winkle. They know Joshua Whit- 
comb and are personally acquainted with 
the other characters, some of which are 
taken bodily from the streets and farms 
of old Swanzey, yet to the general mind 



Swanzey is a place having no existence 
save behind the footlights, though the 
characters that have tread its mimic 
streets are reminiscent, the average the- 
atre-goer is certain that they survive in 
actual life no more. Joshua Whitcomb. 
however, is an actual reproduction of 
two personages in Swanzey known as 
Captain Otis Whitcomb and Joshua Hol- 
brook. Captain Otis furnished the com- 
edy and Joshua the more serious ele- 
ments of the combination. The original 
of Aunt Matilda was a sister of Joshua 
Holbrook and known to all the people of 



REMINISCENCES OF DENMAN THOMPSON 



45 



Swanzey as "Aunt Rhody" — a tender, 
honest, faithful, respectable old lady who 
transmuted the joys and sorrows of her 
life and home into pure gold. "Cy" 
Prime was a fellow townsman who had 
the reputation of being the biggest liar in 
Cheshire County, and Seth Perkins was 
a composite of several characters, such 
as can be found in every New England 
village. Henry Hopkins, the city man, 
was an old New Hampshire playfellow 
of Denman Thompson, who used to sit 
on the same bench with him in the little 
red schoolhouse. He went to New York 
and got rich. The other characters in 
the play were more or less taken from 
life. 

I found Denman Thompson sitting on 
the porch of his son's cottage on the 
shore of Swanzey Lake, a couple of 
miles from, his own home. Denman 
Thompson is Joshua Whitcomb and 
Joshua Whitcomb is Denman Thompson. 
An old man you would say to look at 
him, but he is not old in spirit. His 
heart is young; he is simple, frank and 
honest. His speech is deliberate, plain, 
to the point, and invariably unadorned. 
He shook hands with a warmth and 
geniality that is characteristic of the 
man, and invited me to a seat beside 
him. He said "I'm glad to see you," and 
then Denman Thompson talked slowly, 
deliberately, his shrewd kindly face 
lighted up from time to time as he dwelt 
on some person or topic of particular in- 
terest. 

"I guess I must hav^e played Uncle 
Josh nearly 15,000 times," said Mr. 
Thompson in answer to my question. I 
have taken that part on an average of 
ten times a week, for forty weeks in the 
year for thirty-five years, and some of 
my people have been with me for twenty 
years. Yes, I can play it in my sleep. 

"When am I going to retire?" At 
that question his eye kindled and he took 
on a determined look, while he replied, 
"You are like all the rest, that question 
exasperates me. Every once in a while 
the report arises that I am about to re- 
tire and it goes broadcast over the coun- 
try. Then the papers all get to work 
and publish long articles illustrated, about 
my life, flattering to be sure, but none 



the less exasperating. I want to say em- 
phatically once and for all that I am 
not going to retire, that I have not re- 
tired and have no intention of retiring. 
I am nearly 77 years old and I intend to 
play just as long as I am able. I have 
set the limit at 94 and perhaps by that 
time I will set the limit at a hundred. I 
am going on the stage again this year 
and will open in New York City playing 
Joshua Whitcomb as usual. I shall play 
at the Boston Theatre Easter week. 
Set that down, so that you won't forget 
it, and remember that this is not my fare- 
well appearance. 

"The Old Homestead is a play that 
never seems to grow old. I don't know 
but some people think I have stuck to 
Joshua Whitcomb too long. I don't think 
so. At first it was a sketch, not more 
than 25 minutes long, and presented the 
street scene in Boston in which Uncle 
Joshua had a number of excitable and 
laughable adventures, and the birthday 
party in which he made the liveliest sort 
of merriment and homely talk. I did my 




Denman Thompson and his grandchild 



46 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



best to give an accurate imitation of two 
actual personages in Swanzey, whom I 
had known and seen every day in my 
childhood; they are both dead now. In 
die summer of 1875," continued Mr 
Thompson, "when I was giving my 
sketches at the coliseum in Chicago, I 
met J. M. Hill, who was a New Hamp- 
shire man and a very shrewd one, and 
by his advice "The Old Homestead" was 
developed into its present proportions. 
To be sure some interpolations have 
been made, but it has always remained a 
homely but true picture of farm life to 
illustrate the best there is in human na- 
ture, to awaken the memories and to stir 
the emotions of men and women who 
have come from a farm, and to teach a 
wholesome lesson to the young. "The 
Old Homestead" in its entirety was pre- 
sented to the public for the first time at 
the Boston Theatre in April 1886, but for 
years previous the public was familiar 
with Uncle Joshua which had its first 
presentment at Harry Martin's Varieties, 
Pittsburg, in February, 1875. In Sep- 
tember, 1878, Joshua Whitcomb was in- 
troduced to the New York public at the 
Lyceum Theatre and it proved a tremen- 
dous success. Uncle Joshua was always 
a welcome guest in Boston and the 
receipts of the first week in "The Old 
Homestead" at the Boston Theatre were 
$11,279.25. Several minor characters 
like Ed Ganzey, "Whistling Ed," and the 
Hoboken Tough, which has since fitted 
so excellently with the spirit and scheme 
of the play were not in the original pro- 
duction. 

"No, I don't have to put on any make- 
up or dress the part, except for the 
Joshua Whitcomb suit and the historic 
Whitcomb boots. Those Whitcomb 
boots by the way were made for me in 
1876, being finished on July 4, about a 
year after the first production of the 
original Joshua Whitcomb. I have those 
hoots now and I wear them at every per- 
formance of the "Old Homestead." The 
hoots are not ready to retire any more 
than their owner." 

The talk meanwhile had turned on 
honesty. 

"I will give you a way to tell an honest 
man," said Denman Thompson. "Find 



out if he stands well in his own com- 
munity. You go into a small town where 
every one knows everybody else. Say, 
T've some valuables I want to have some 
honest man take care of.' If people 
say, 'there's Jack Smith. He's poor, but 
he is as honest as daylight,' you can 
figure that Jack Smith's word is good. 
If the man has the confidence of his 
home people you can trust him. It isn't a 
question," he said slowly, "of faith or 
creed or politics or all that. Simply do 
right because it is right." This wasn't 
any sermon but simply Mr. Thompson 
was serious and the theme was serious. 
From honesty the conversation drifted 
to his personal recollections of the stage 
and stage people and he recalled a visit 
which he made in October, 1908, to the 
Actors' Fund Home, where he met many 
of the old folks whom he had known and 
played with long ago, Jenney Fisher, 
William Gilbert, Harry Clifton, Harry 
Langdon, Harry Hapgood, Walter Went- 
worth, Sam Berney, Miss Forrestier, 
John Vincent and George Washington 
Pike. "I was profoundly affected, affect- 
ed more than I can say," said Denman 
Thompson softly as he wiped his eyes, 
and the good old gray actor remained 
silent, reminiscent of the years long past. 
Asked if he was born in Swanzey, he 
replied, "No, I was not. My father, 
Capt. Rufus Thompson, in 1831, after 
having lived here and his father and 
grandfather before him, and several 
generations besides, decided to go West. 
He immigrated to a little settlement in 
the far corner of Pennsylvannia. facing 
Lake Erie. It was called Beachwood, 
what is now Girard. I was born there 
in 1833, in a log cabin. The Thompsons 
were descended from one of the original 
coloinsts, to whom the township of 
Swanzey was granted by the Colonial 
authorities of Massachusetts in 1735. 
Lot No. 43 was awarded to John 
Thompson and from that date to this 
our family has lived here. My father 
did not succeed very well it seems in 
Beachwood. At any rate he returned to 
Swanzey when I was 14 years old. He 
was a sort of Jack-of-all-trades — a 
mechanical genius — and, in addition to 
farming, did odd jobs about the town- 



REMINISCENCES OF DENMAN THOMPSON 



47 




Denman Thompson, his son and grandson 



ship of every imaginable character, from 
mending a watch or a leaky teakettle to 
making the plans for a house. My 
father lived to be 90 year old and saw 
me in 'The Old Homestead' many times. 
"It was intended that I should be a 
carpenter. But I got restless and when 
I was 17 years old, in the spring of 1850, 
I persuaded my folks to let me go to 
Boston to seek my fortune. The adven- 
ture was the subject of discussion, con- 
templation and prayer, public and private 
all that winter. The minister, the school- 
teacher and the relatives and neighbors 
all took a hand in deciding my destiny. 
Finally my father gave in and, saying, 



'Thy will, O Lord, not mine, be done,' 
consented to my departure. 

"With a new suit of clothes and several 
pairs of mittens and stockings I started 
for Boston. The first job I got there 
was with a circus, where I had charge 
of the banners and poles, rode in the 
opening pageant, and, after some prac- 
tice and instruction, took my place among 
thirty or more acrobats and tumblers. 

"After the circus had finished its 
season, I got a job as supernumerary on 
the stage at the Howard Atheneum, and 
assisted to shove the scenery about when 
Charlotte Cushman played Lady Mac- 
beth. After that I got a job as door- 



48 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



keeper and lecturer for a collection of 
portraits of Indian Chiefs and finally 
landed in the dry goods store of my 
uncle, D. D. Baxter of Lowell. Tiring 
of that business, for it seemed too tame 
for me, I returned to the stage the fol- 
lowing year, where I had a speaking part 
and did a number of dances, in the 
French Spy. That was in the fall of 
1852, and I have been behind the foot- 
lights ever since." 

Denman Thompson talked on slowly. 
"I have seen many changes in the drama 
since 1886, when 'The Old Homestead' 
was first presented. This is a day of 
drama without its story. The idea seems 
to be to furnish something pleasant to the 
eye. Still, as I have said, I attribute a 
large measure of the hold 'The Old 
Homestead' had kept on the public to 
the fact that there is a simple life story 
running throughout the play. It is not 
likely that a manager would pin his faith 
in a new play of this type and perhaps 
he would be acting with reason, for a 
play of that kind, to be successful, must 
be played by a man who will make it his 
ambition to make the chief character live 
year after year ; the type must be a uni- 
versal one. It must be genuine, and not 
imaginary, so that it will appeal to all, 
not to one class alone." 

Denman Thompson played in Chicago 
at Rice's Theatre in 1855. He is the only 
surviving member of that famous coterie 
which included Frank Page, Harry Lyn- 
don, Thomas Duncan, William McFar- 
land, Charlie Beach, Mrs. Altemus, the 
Radcliffes, the Marble family, Frank 
Chanfrau, Miss Albertine, the blind 
actress; James Murdock, Harry Mc- 
Carthy and his sister, Marion, and 
Maggie Mitchell. Recalling those days 
he smiled reminiscently and said, "I used 
to live at Doty's Hotel and at the Sher- 
man House then. I recall a famous 
dancing match that was held there during 
the winter. Tn the 50's there was a rage 
for what was called straight jig dancing. 
The two celebrated jig dancers at that 
time were Richard Sliter and Joe Brown. 
The match was held in a big hall opposite 
the Brigg's House, and it attracted more 
attention than a big horse race does to- 
day. 



"What sort of a play do I consider will 
live the longest? The play which por- 
trays life in its simplest, most natural 
condition. It doesn't make a great deal 
of difference whether a man has ever 
lived in the country ; he will understand 
a character like Joshua Whitcomb any- 
way. It seems to me there are few 
people in this land who are not country 
people. The vast majority of the men 
and women of the cities were either born 
in the country or their elder brothers and 
sisters were. 'The Old Homestead' 
plays upon the threads of human sym- 
pathy. Such a play is built for the heart 
and head rather than for the eye. It is 
the kind of a play that will never wear 
out. It is different from the present idea 
of dramatists, which seems to be for a 
play that is full of complication, filled 
with hysterics and rapid-fire series of 
dramatic climaxes ; simplicity is the last 
thing apparently that the present day 
dramatist aims at. But after all it is the 
simple play that lives, like 'The Gilded 
Age,' which made a fortune for John T. 
Raymond. The reason characters like 
Joshua Whitcomb appeal to people, too, 
is because they are typically American, 
they are native products." An instance 
which shows really the sterling good 
qualities of Denman Thompson occurred 
way back in the early days of his career 
when he made his first big success in 
Toronto. It was after he had been there 
and had remained fourteen years learn- 
ing the rudiments of acting at the Royal 
Lyceum, and contracted innumerable 
debts. Although the debts had long been 
outlawed — they amounted to over three 
thousand dollars — he paid them dollar 
for dollar in amounts ranging from two 
to twenty dollars. 

The aged actor was now pretty well 
warmed up and gave his views on men 
and events in that New England manner 
which is one of the particular charms of 
his acting on the stage. "I remember 
playing in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' " said he, 
"at the Royal Lyceum in Toronto as far 
back as 1857, and I have here the pro- 
gram which shows that I was cast for 
Uncle Tom and Mr. Petrie was the 
Simon Legree while Miss C. Nickinson 
was Eliza. It is a common thing for 



REMINISCENCES OE DENMAN THOMPSON 



49 



some one to ask me if I don't get tired 
of repeating the old lines of my play 
night after night, and I always tell them 
that I don't. Why should I? That re- 
minds me of a story of Charlie Baxter, 
the minstrel. Charlie was playing once 
in New York and an old friend of his, 
a groceryman from Rochester went to 
see him. 

'How are you, Charlie,' asked the 
friend. 

'So, so,' said Charles. 

T went to see you last night, Charles, 
and I wonder how you can stand it. 
Don't you get tired of blacking your face 
every night, telling the same old jokes, 
and shaking your tambourine ?' 

'No,' said Charles, T don't know that 
I do; but don't you get tired taking 
down your shutters every morning, put- 
ting them up again at night, and cutting 
the same old cheese year after year?' 

"I know that some people think that 
because I choose to produce 'The Old 
Homestead' for so long, although I am 
playing to capacity, I lack ambition. 
Ambition is all right for these young 
fellows who are growing up on the 
stage, but business is business. And that 
reminds me of a story that Jefferson once 
told me. In the old days he had played 
with a stock company in Baltimore. He 
returned to Baltimore a year or two be- 
fore his death, playing Rip Van Winkle. 
A few of the old boys asked him to play 
one of the old pieces. Rip Van Winkle 
was playing to standing room only, but 
to please them he put on 'The Heir-at- 
Law' as they had promised to come. 

'And they did, too,' said Jefferson, 'all 
thirty of them came and there was no 
one else in the house.' ' 

Mr. Thompson sat musing and his eyes 
had a far away look. "I have been on the 
stage a precious while," he went on, 
"since 1852. I think I must be the oldest 
actor living, but I feel spry and I am not 
ready to say farewell yet. I don't believe 
in those farewell tours," he said with an 
emphasis of disgust, "and I never expect 
to give one. I don't believe in super- 
stition either, though I know that they 
are considered almost second nature to 
an actor. I start out on a Friday if I 
want to, sit down with thirteen at a 



table, carry thirteen trunks, and I would 
walk under a ladder too if there was not 
a drunken brick layer with a hod of 
bricks on the top. I don't believe in look- 
ing at the moon over your left shoulder. 
Everything is the result of cause and 
effect and you can't dodge them. This 
country is all right but it is like an old 
trotting horse. You speed it up faster 
and faster without thinking that there is 
a limit to its speed. Then some day you 
try to urge him a little faster and you run 
him off his feet. That is my idea of 
what they call a panic, but I may be 
wrong." 

It is hard to think of Denman Thomp- 
son ever playing any part other than that 
of Uncle Joshua, and yet he has played 
a great many parts from minstrelsy to 
Shakesperian roles, comedy, tragedy and 
drama so much so that they quite make 
up for all the long years that he has just 
been plain Joshua Whitcomb, which has 
raked in dollars by the millions since its 
first presentation at the Boston Theatre, 
Boston, twenty-five years ago. The stage 
from both sides of the footlights owes 
a tremendous aesthetic debt to Denman 
Thompson and his Joshua Whitcomb. It 
was Mr. Thompson who quite as much 
if not more than any one else taught 
producers and playgoers that a homely 
every-day type could sit back of the foot- 
lights and talk quietly, easily and in just 
the way a human being might talk at 
home, and still effect a tremendous suc- 
cess. P. T. Barnum, Robert Collier and 
Col. Ingersoll, were the cronies of 
Uncle Joshua in the days of his early 
big successes. One night at McVickar's 
Theatre in Chicago he had for box occu- 
pants General Grant, Allen Pinkerton, 
Potter Palmer, and Gen. Phil Sheridan, 
and he has had many box parties just 
as notable since then. 

I have said that Denman Thompson is 
generous. He is generous in the same 
way that Joshua Whitcomb is generous. 
How many men would give a doubtful 
looking tramp five dollars on the chance 
that he will go home and lead a better 
life. Denman Thompson would do just 
that. He dislikes to talk about his chari- 
ties himself. The scrub women at the 
Boston Theatre know them ; thev will 



50 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



tell you how they look forward to the 
annual advent of Denman Thompson for 
it means a new five dollar bill for every 
one of them, accompanied by kind words 
of remembrance. To every one who 
knows Mr. Thompson he is "The Gov- 
ernor." He says "a man never has a cent 
until he is forty years old, and I went 
;wenty years over the limit." 

Among the countless admirers of Den- 
man Thompson there is probably not one 
who has for him a kinder regard, a 
deeper interest and healthier appreciation 
than Mr. R. H. White, Boston's mer- 
chant prince. It is Mr. White's fondest 
boast that he "discovered" Denman 
Thompson years ago when he himself 
was near the lower round of the ladder 
of commercial success. Mr. Thompson, 
then a young and struggling player, was 
eking out a moderate salary on the stage 
of Tony Pastor's Theatre on Lower 
Broadway. He was impersonating the 
Yankee farmer, and doing a very clever 
and original sketch. The moment Mr. 
White saw him he was struck with his 
perfect naturalness of make-up, gestures 
and speech. To him it seemed that 
Denman Thompson was on the same 
plane as Joseph Jefferson in Rip Van 
Winkle and Dion Bouccicault as Con, 
the Shaughraun. Mr. White on return- 
ing to Boston went at once to J. C. 
Wentworth at the old Gaiety Theatre 
and told him of Denman Thompson and 
his sketch, with the result that Mr. 
Wentworth saw him, became equally en- 
thusiastic, and engaged him for a long 
season in Boston. Mr. White was also 
one of the most enthusiastic first night- 
ers on the occasion of the initial per- 
formance of "The Old Homestead" at 
the Boston Theatre twenty-five years 
ago. He occupied a box with Dr. Or- 
lanrlo Tompkins, father of the late 
Eugene Tompkins, and he says that he 
enjoyed the performance immensely; 
that the audience was so large that it not 
only filled all the seats but thronged the 



lobby as well. 

"I don't suppose," said Mr. White, 
"that there is an actor living today who 
has made anywhere near so much money 
out of his profession as Denman Thomp- 
son. There is no purer, sweeter or more 
wholesome play in existence. It almost 
seems to me as if I had known Denman 
Thompson all my life, and yet his Joshua 
Whitcomb never changes one iota. It is 
precisely the same now as it was twenty- 
five years ago, or as it seemed to me in 
that little sketch which he did so cleverly 
in Tony Pastor's Theatre on Lower 
Broadway some forty years ago. 

Uncle Joshua, or the Governor, a sort 
of affectionate term that is applied to 
him, declares that he is feeling well and 
perfectly fit and capable fr» -tar this sea- 
son. He is one of those who would 
rather wear out than rush out. He plays 
his part in "The Old Homestead" for the 
fun that he gets out of it. He is willing 
to admit that he is well along in years, — 
that he is no longer a colt, — but he makes 
a strong distinction between being old 
and being "a dead one." As Joshua 
Whitcomb he has played a single role 
longer than any other actor on the Ameri- 
can stage. Jefferson as Rip Van Winkle 
made almost a record, but he varied that 
part with others, while Denman Thomp- 
son has stuck to Joshua Whitcomb for an 
uninterrupted period of thirty-six years. 

As Eugene Field says of Joshua Whit- 
comb, "We recognize an old friend; we 
knew him in Maine, Vermont, New 
Hampshire, Massachusetts — yes, and in 
York State too — his name was not Joshua 
Whitcomb in the old days, but he was 
then the same lovable character as he is 
today, his heart as tender, his charity as 
universal, his humor as quaint, his pathos 
as sincere. He is an old friend come 
from among the hills, and we seem to 
breathe once more the atmosphere of 
those hills, and we seem to hear the hum- 
ming of bees and to scent the fragrance 
of lilacs and wintergreen. 



* ^» * 




Vermont's graceful and dignified capitol 

Montpelier, Vermont 

By CHAS. M. ROCKWOOD 



THERE are three claimants to the 
very considerable honor of the 
title of "Founder of Mont- 
pelier," Timothy Biglow, Jacob 
Davis and Joel Frizzell. This latter 
gentleman appears to have been a French 
Canadian hunter about whom little is 
known save the bare fact of his resi- 
dence. He was undoubtedly the first 
actual settler, but his occupancy was 
brief and without special significance. 
Mr. Biglow, on the other hand, was a 
man of consequence to whom certain im- 
portant landed rights were granted, but 
he never actually settled within the boun- 
dary of his claims. 

Jacob Davis was both a man of con- 
sequence and an actual settler, and even 
if the facts were against him, we would 
still be strongly inclined in his favor, for 



every record and tradition points to him 
as the very ideal of a New England 
pioneer. He was six feet tall, broad- 
shouldered and of commanding presence. 
Many stories are handed down of his 
great muscular strength as well as of his 
wisdom, generosity and justice. He was 
something of a humorist and a man of 
marked individuality. His wife was an 
earnest Christian and is said to have 
possessed great personal beauty. They 
reared a large family of sons and daugh- 
ters whom they christened with the 
quaint old fashioned names, and kept 
open house with a huge, roaring fire-place 
and unstinted hospitality. 

In short Jacob Davis is just the kind 
of figure that is woven into the romance 
of early New England life. 

All this was about the year 1781, 



52 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




rPELIER S NEW CITY HALL 



although the first grant was in 1770 and 
surveyors had been driven off by Ira 
Allen in 1772. The town was finally or- 
ganized in 1791 with a total population 
of one hundred and thirteen, twenty- 
seven of whom were voters. 

To those familiar with New England 
history these few facts are quite suffi- 
cient to indicate the character of the 
settlement and its early vicissitudes. 



The district was one possessed of 
many natural advantages, and I am not 
sure but that we should give the very 
first rank among these to that climate 
which was considered so cruel a hardship 
by those early settlers. For the greatest 
asset of the city has ever been the quality 
of manhood that, argue the matter as we 
may, the softer climes so seldom produce. 

Clinging to the slopes of the hills 



MONTPELIER, VERMONT 



53 




An invitation to snowshoeing 



where the snows of winter and the bil- 
lows of summer green would seem alter- 
nately to threaten it with extinction, a 
city has been built whose leading institu- 
tions are of national reach and rank 
among the most important of the great 
financial interests of our country. 

And in these latter days when the im- 
provements of civilization have lifted our 
personal comforts above the contingen- 
cies of climate, that which seemed to our 



forefathers a hardship is now an eagerly 
sought source of health and recreation. 
In increasing thousands, the American 
people are learning to make a playfellow 
of the ice and snow that are the glory 
of our New England winters. 

Another of the natural advantages en- 
joyed by the beautiful capital city of 
Vermont, is that of its location on the 
Winooski River, ten miles above the 
geographical center of the state in a val- 



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MONTPELIER, VERMONT 



55 



ley entered by live streams, each of 
which affords a natural highway through 
the hills, prophetic of future railroad and 
commercial development. Montpelier is 
already a distributing center of some im- 
portance with a mercantile life far more 
metropolitan than would be warranted 
by its actual population of eighty-five 
hundred. 

The soil of the neighboring farms in 
the valleys between the hills is fertile, 
and with the growth of scientific farming 



in value. Granite is found in the vicinity 
of Montpelier and Barre in all shades 
of gray from almost white to nearly 
black. In quality it is not only unsur- 
passed for building purposes, but is suit- 
able for the finest monumental work. The 
sheets are of great thickness and remark- 
ably free from seams or faults. The size 
of pieces which may be quarried is limit- 
ed only by the mechanical means for rais- 
ing and transporting them. It is matter 
of record that one block sixty-four feet 




In the heart of one of Montpelier' s beautiful residence districts 



the mercantile importance of Montpelier 
will be largely increased. 

An advantage far more palpable and 
immediate to the average observer is that 
of the inexhaustible supply of granite 
which underlies the soil. The granite in- 
dustry of Vermont is nevertheless of 
quite recent growth. So late as 1880 the 
total output for the state amounted to 
but Sixty Thousand Dollars in value. 
The average annual production at present 
is between Four and Five Million Dollars 



long, thirty feet wide and eighteen feet 
thick was once quarried by the Boutwell, 
Milne and Varnum Company. The weight 
of this block was three thousand tons. 
From the quarry of A. E. Bruce a block 
of four thousand tons was once quarried 
and lifted. 

More than Two and a Quarter Millions 
of Dollars in capital are invested in this 
industry and between three and four 
thousand men employed. 

These workmen are drawn from all 



56 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




A TYPICAL GROUP OF MONTPELIER GRANITE CUTTERS 



parts of the world and include many of 
the most skillful stone cutters to be 
found anywhere. The most advanced 
methods are employed in cutting and 
handling the stone and ample facilities 
exist for caring for the very largest con- 
tracts. Between fifty and one hundred 
carloads, mostly of finished work, are 
shipped from the district daily. 

The stone is very hard, strong and 
durable and takes a beautiful polish. 
The possession by Montpelier, not only 
of this abundant supply of the finest 
building and monumental material in the 
world, and of the skilled labor and or- 
ganization to produce from it the most 
artistic results, may well rank as one of 
the prime sources of wealth of our New 
England States. With the enormous 
development of our country in wealth 
and population the possible development 
of this industry would seem to be almost 
limitless. 

Not only is our climate such that 
granite is far preferable to marble for all 



exterior construction, but granite of such 
fine grain as that of the Montpelier dis- 
trict, when cut in delicate patterns has a 
beauty of its own derived partly, no 
doubt, from the consciousness of the ob- 
server of the hardness of the material 
and the difficulties that have been sur- 
mounted in its working. 

There are at present thirty-nine firms 
engaged in granite cutting in Montpelier. 

Closely allied, industrially, to the 
granite business is that of supplying 
power to the quarry-men and stone cut- 
ters. For this also, Montpelier is for- 
tunately situated, the Winooski River 
furnishing convenient water power which 
is economically supplemented by steam 
plants. There are two corporations en- 
gaged in this business, The Consolidated 
Lighting Company and The Vermont 
Power and Lighting Company. The two 
corporations are very closely allied and 
their rates and methods are practically 
the same. The Consolidated has already 
developed three thousand horse power 



MONTPELIER, VERMONT 



57 



from their water power plant at Bolton 
Falls and two thousand horse power 
from their steam plant at the Pioneer. 
The Vermont Power and Lighting Com- 
pany has developed twenty-one hundred 
horse power at their Middlesex water 
power plant, where they also have an 
auxiliary steam plant of five hundred 
horse power capacity. The two com- 
panies thus furnish a total of seventy-six 
hundred horse power which is available 
at any part of Montpelier or Barre. The 
Vermont Power Company also extend 
their service to the neighboring com- 
munities. The charges are very reason- 
able, those for domestic lighting being 
ten cents and for commercial lighting six 
and one-third cents per kilowatt and for 
power, on a sliding scale according to 
amount used. The Corry, Deavitt & 
Frost plant are engaged in important 
power-development operations, and sell 
power at a "flat rate." 

But, important as the granite industry 
is to Montpelier, the city is not so depen- 
dent upon it as to suffer serious 1 } with its 
fluctuations. Other important industries 





The Montpelier Gun Club 



Post-office euilding 

are strongly established and contribute 
their share to the city's wealth. 

But the course of our account will be 
more logical if we consider first, another 
and very striking feature of the present 
marked prosperity of the city. Nothing 
in this little giant of the Green Moun- 
tains strikes the visitor with more as- 
tonishment than the development there, 
in a district utterly remote from the great 
financial centers of the country, of the 
strong insurance companies whose home 
offices dignify and strengthen the com- 
mercial life of Montpelier. 

These are The National Life Insur- 
ance Company, The Vermont Mutual 
Fire Insurance Company, The American 
Fidelity Company and The Union 
Mutual Fire Insurance Company. 

The National Life Insurance . Com- 
pany was born November 13, 1848. The 
original corporation included such prom- 
inent names as those of Henry Clay of 
Kentucky, Amos Abbot of Massachu- 
setts, Robert Dunlap of Maine, William 
Maclay of New York, William Tread- 
way of Virginia, Alexander Ramsay of 
Pennsylvania, Henry Cranston of Rhode 
Island, William Kittredge, Robert Pier- 



58 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



pont, Julius Converse and Albert G. 
Whittemore of Vermont, and Benjamin 
Balch of Massachusetts, who was the 
one that furnished the primary ideas, 
although the business ability of Julius Y. 
Dewey laid the real foundations on 
which its future prosperity was built. 

The first death loss occurred May 17, 
1850. The policy was on the seven year 
term plan with a premium of five dollars 
and fifteen cents and the management 
had to pledge their individual means to 



for Vermont and adjacent sections of 
Canada, but as confidence in the company 
increased, its field of operations extend- 
ed, and now covers the entire country. 
In 1908 the present forms of policy with 
graded surrender charge for years three 
to seven inclusive, were adopted, meeting 
the statutory requirements of every state 
in the Union. During the past year the 
Company enjoyed the gross income of 
$8,418,275.40, an issue of new insurance 
on a paid-for basis of $16,861,778.00, and 




State street, showing buildings of the Mutual Fire Insurance Co. 
the National Life and the Pavillion Hotel 



pay the claim promptly. Stock to the 
amount of $100,000 was at first issued to 
insure solvency and inspire confidence. 
It was soon possible to retire this stock, 
however, and the amount was reduced to 
825,000. In 1876 there was a movement 
to profit by the prosperity of the com- 
pany and another issue of stock was or- 
dered. But this also was soon retired 
and the business has since been conduct- 
ed on a purely mutual basis. The bulk 
of the first policies issued were written 



at the close of the year the gross assets 
equalled $47,490,998.98 and paid-for out- 
standing insurance $159,187,877.00. 

American readers of today are ac- 
customed to large figures, but they usual- 
ly refer to the inflated valuations of spec- 
ulative enterprises. Such figures as 
these when they refer to the cautious and 
conservative business of one of the most 
soundly conducted insurance companies 
in the country, speak worlds for the wis- 
dom and enterprise of those who are 



MONTPELIER, VERMONT 



59 



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The Hospital 



responsible for its growth. 

During no period of its existence has 
this development been more marked than 
under the present administration. Joseph 
Arend DeBoer, President of the National 
Life Insurance Company, was born in 
Warffum, Province of Groningen, Hol- 
land, June 17, 1861. He was brought to 
this country at an early age and educated 
in the public and high schools at Albany, 
New York, and at Dartmouth College, 
from which he graduated in 1884. Mr. 
DeBoer at first followed the vocation of 
a teacher. He was master in the Holder- 
ness School for boys at Plymouth, New 
Hampshire, 1884-85, and principal of 
The Montpelier Union and Washington 
County Grammar Schools, 1885-89. At 



that time he accepted an appointment as 
actuary of The National Life. He was 
elected a director and secretary of the 
Company in 1897, second vice-president 
in 1900, first vice-president in 1901, and 
president in 1902. He is one of the 
charter members of the Actuarial Society 
of America and has held and holds many 
honorary and public offices. He has 
represented Montpelier in the State 
Legislature and has served as State 
Senator for Washington County. He is 
a trustee of the Permanent School Fund 
of Vermont and of various educational 
institutions and has received from Dart- 
mouth College since his graduation the 
degree of A. M. in 1887 and of D. Sc. in 
1909. Mr. DeBoer is also president of 




The Montpelier Country Club 



60 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Plant of the Colton Manufacturing Co. 



the Montpelier Board of Trade and is an 
active force in all that pertains to the 
welfare of the city. 

The Vermont Mutual Fire Insurance 
Company presents, in its history, the 
story so familiar to American ears, but 
none the less wonderful, of far-sighted 
and devoted men grappling with great 
issues in the face of unforeseeable ob- 
stacles and with the most primitive ap- 
pliances and limited means. The father 
and promoter of the company was Daniel 
E^.Mwin and the method which he 
devised has remained substantially un- 
changed since its outline in the charter 
of 1827. On March 30, 1828, the office 
of the company was opened for business, 
and its first annual meeting reported 186 
policies issued, covering $204,908 risks 
with premium notes taken to the amount 
of $9,606.88. The business was expand- 
ed with caution and conservatism, and at 
the minimum of expense. Its home for 
the first four years was in the law office 
of Joshua V. Vail, and the first office 
building erected for its own use was a 
small brick structure costingbut $1,1 77.33. 
This was allowed to suffice until 1869 
when a fine and substantial building was 
erected and equipped with every facility 
for the transaction of its growing busi- 
ness. In 1893 the present management 
determined upon the policy, then untried, 
of gradually accumulating a cash surplus 
available for years of special disaster. 



The effect of this has been seen in an ex- 
traordinarily uniform rate of assessment 
and the surplus has now attained such 
proportions as to render it a practical 
assurance that the assessment rate shall 
not be increased, under any humanly 
probable conditions. The average rate 
of assessment on the premium notes de- 
posited with the company has been about 
2>y 2 per cent, and four per cent, is 
regarded as the maximum that will never 
be exceeded. The amount at risk, August 
1st, 1910, was $87,601,903.00, being a 
gain of $3,923,302.00 during the year. 
The Company's assets are $8,266,413.01, 
including a treasury balance of $262,- 
534.01. The Mutual is a representative 
Vermont institution, democratic in spirit 
and conservative in management. The 
present officers of the company are Mr. 
George O. Stratton, President ; Thomas 
C. Cheney, Vice-President; James T. 
Savin, Secretary, and William T. Dewey, 
Treasurer. 

The American Fidelity Company, with 
a capital July 1st, 1910, of $500,000.00. 
supplies surety bonds for executors, 
trustees, government and corporation 
employees, etc. ; liability insurance cover- 
ing employer's and owner's risks, and 
accident and health insurance. Burglary 
insurance is also included in the risks 
covered by the Fidelity. The policy 
holders are well protected, the company 
having a handsome surplus over all 



MONTPELIER, VERMONT 



61 



liabilities, and assets of $1,417,877.89, of 
which $985,055.00 is invested in high 
class municipal bonds. Mr. James W. 
Brock, one of Montpelier's strongest 
business men, is President of the Com- 
pany, Mr. Harlan W. Kemp Secretary, 
and Mr. Ralph B. Denny Treasurer. 

The Union Mutual Fire Insurance 
Company was chartered in 1874. Mr. 
James W. Brock is President of this 
company also, and Mr. Harlan W. Kemp 
its secretary. The business of the com- 
pany is conducted with that soundness 
which characterizes Montpelier's big 
financial institutions, and adds a very 
considerable item to the strength of 
Montpelier's position as an insurance 
center. There are few more interesting 
economic studies than that of the devel- 
opment of insurance and of insurance 
centers, and Montpelier is an example 
that is as instructive as it is unique. The 
development of these companies is a fine 
example of the solidarity of Vermont, 
although in at least one instance they 
have extended their field far beyond its 
borders. 

Yet another source of wealth to Mont- 
pelier, and one that the people of the city 
almost class as a natural resource is the 
Lane Manufacturing Company. I think 
that many of the people of Montpelier 
would be less astonished to learn that the 
granite had disappeared from the hills 



or the Winooski dried up, than that the 
Lane Manufacturing Company had 
ceased to do business. Back in 1860, 
Dennis Lane began the manufacture of 
saw mills on the site of the present fac- 
tory. His inventions were so valuable 
that efforts were made by large com- 
binations of capital to infringe upon 
them. The courts, however, secured the 
company's rights, and its growth has 
been even and rapid, ever since. The 
manufacture of derricks and travelling 
cranes has been added to that of saw 
mills in recent years, the vicinity of the 
great quarries furnishing an active mar- 
ket for such goods. Transmission 
machinery, such as shafting, pulleys, 
hangers, etc., are also produced and a 
very complete line of wood-working 
machinery. The machines are built on 
the interchangeable plan, insuring the ac- 
curate duplication of repair parts. The 
shops are large, clean, airy and well- 
lighted, and the comfort and wellfare of 
the employees, a large percentage of 
whom own their own homes, is a conspic- 
uous feature of the organization. The 
very isolation of Montpelier has worked 
favourably in the matter of skilled labour 
supply, a population being built up 
around the plant especially adapted to its 
various requirements. The number of 
hands employed is practically uniform 
year in and year out, and short-time 




m. W* 



Plant of the Lane Manufacturing Co. 



62 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



operation rarely resorted to. The mar- 
ket for the product of the factory is 
world-wide, and the success of the estab- 
lishment is the strongest argument which 
Montpelier can offer to industries seek- 
ing a favourable location. The officers 
of the company are : George Lester Lane. 
President, and Marshall L. Wood, Vice- 
President, General Manager and Treas- 
urer. 

For more than half a century the 
Colton Manufacturing Company, also a 
Montpelier institution, has held the fore- 
front among manufacturing concerns of 
its kind in the United States, and it is 
today the largest harness furnishing and 
saddlery hardware manufactory in the 
country producing exclusively high-grade 
goods. It is now the property of four 
brothers, the sons of H. C. Colton, one 
of its early founders, and prominent pro- 
prietors. At his death his sons bought 
out the remaining interests and now own 
the property in equal shares. The busi- 
ness is in a very prosperous condition, 
and side lines of ornamental hardware 
have been added to meet possible fluctua- 
tions in the demand for saddlery and 
harness fittings. About one hundred men 
are employed and the company is widely 
known for its fair dealing and the ex- 
cellence of its product. The proprietors 
are all young men of energy and enter- 
prise, and the extension of the business 
may be confidently looked to as a source 
of added prosperity for Montpelier. 

The Capital City Press, a large pub- 
lishing house of recent origin, but of 
much enterprise and the C. H. Cross and 
Tar Cracker Company are also em- 
ployers on a large scale and contributors 
to the total of wealth-producing in- 
dustrial activity in the city. 

Four strong banks, closely located, 
handle the financial interests of Mont- 
pelier, and look after the loan of the 
savings of the people. These are the 
Montpelier Savings Bank and Trust 
Company, the First National P>ank, the 
Capital Savings "Bank and Trust Com- 
pany anrl the Merchants' National P>ank. 

The business interests of the city are 
united for mutual helpfulness and to 
work together for the good of the city in 
a Board of Trade, of which Mr. Joseph 



DeBoer is President, Mr. James Bout- 
well, Vice-President, and Mr. Fred 
Gleason, the active and capable Secre- 
tary. 

The Montpelier Board of Trade is the 
result of the re-organization on March 
30, 1909, of a Board which had lain 
practically dormant for twenty years, 
with a Merchants' Association. 

Starting with a membership of about 
two hundred, the list has now reached 
approximately two hundred and fifty 
active, interested members, embracing 
the leading citizens of the city. 

The work of the Board has been dis- 
tributed among committees each of which 
has its duties assigned by the directors, 
of whom there are seven, and to whom 
the committees report. These com- 
mittees are: Finance, Power, Transpor- 
tation, New Industries, Real Estate, Pub- 
licity, Municipality, Receptions and En- 
tertainment, Conventions, Granite, Agri- 
culture, Membership, General and Mer- 
chants. 

This method is adopted to secure the 
better execution of any plans of the 
Board and to interest a larger number of 
citizens in its work, and has proven very 
successful. 

The Board seeks to stimulate interest 
among the business men of the city in its 
piosperity and progress, having regard 
first to the betterment of conditions 
already existing, and second, to the in- 
troduction of such new enterprises as 
may seem to deserve support and add to 
the substantial basis of the city's trade. 

Already there have been added several 
granite works and other enterprises are 
considering locating in Montpelier as the 
result of the work of the Committee on 
New Industries ; the Committee on Con- 
ventions has secured a large number of 
important conventions which have been 
held in the city, and it is probable that 
with the central location of Montpelier, 
and its possession, in the new City Hall 
and the Armory, of two of the finest con- 
vention halls in New England, that Mont- 
pelier will become in reality the conven- 
tion city of Vermont. 

The Board has in contemplation, and 
practically ready for active use, a fund 
subscribed by individual members, of 



MON'ITKUKK, VKKMOXT 



63 




Joseph A. DeBoer 



about $20,000, to be used for the induce- 
ment of the proper sort of new industries, 
not more than twenty-five per cent, of 
the fund being available in any one year, 
and the loans to be made by a committee 
chosen from the subscribers who shall 
properly investigate all applications for 
assistance and report the full findings 
before advances are made from the fund. 
In dealing with the Telephone and 
Railroad Companies in their advances in 
rates, and curtailment of service, the 
public has already found a very effective 
medium in the Board of Trade, and all 



matters thus far considered by it with 
these public service corporations have 
been settled most satisfactorily to both 
parties ; but important matters are still 
being considered by the transportation 
committee looking toward the establish- 
ment of more satisfactory freight and 
passenger tolls on the railroads. The 
Board also acts as an information bureau 
during the sessions of the General As- 
sembly, and assisting the representatives 
in the location of quarters for the ses- 
sion without charge, and in every way 
seeking to be of help in all the details of 



64 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



the life of the community, and while it 
has not yet been thoroughly established 
on a sound basis, it is expected that in a 
short time everything will be so system- 
atized and regulated that its effectiveness 
will be greatly increased and its value to 
the community correspondingly enhanced. 

These varied commercial and financial 
interests supply the means for the sup- 
port of a life rich in the amenities of 
modern civilization. As the location of 
the State Capital, the city enjoys many 
peculiar advantages, not the least of 
which is the beautiful capitol building 
itself and the park which surrounds it. 
Located as it is in the heart of the city, 
it forms a practical civic center for the 
public life of the people. Montpelier can 
boast of an unusually excellent band and 
the stand at the corner of the Capitol 
Park is utilized on summer evenings for 
concerts that are enjoyed by the entire 
community. The State Government also 
brings to the city many men of high at- 
tainments who are a large factor in its 
social life, while the State Library and 
the natural history collections, all open to 
the public, are of distinct local advantage. 

The Montpelier Public Library, known 
as the Kellogg-Hubbard Library, is 
housed in a beautiful building on Main 
street and provides a large and growing 
collection of books and periodicals under 
modern management. Near by is the 
beautiful stone building of the Bethany 
Congregational Church and a few blocks 
away the new City Hall, now nearing 
completion, ornaments the city with a fine 
example of civic architecture. 

Another public institution which min- 
isters to the higher life is the Wood Art 
Gallery, a collection of the paintings of 
Thomas M. Wood, a native of Mont- 
pelier, who won national fame as an 
artist. His work is characterized by 
great refinement and beauty and his 
chosen subjects were such as told some 
dramatic story of human interest. As a 
portrait artist also, he won deserved rec- 
ognition and Montpelier owns many of 
the best examples of his work in this 
department. 

The one word, New England, has a 
connotation so large, in the field of 
natural scenery, that it is difficult to 



supply a more satisfactory description of 
the country around Montpelier than 
simply to say that it is typically New 
England landscape of the Green Moun- 
tain type. 

The city occupies a somewhat narrow 
and irregular valley surrounded by hills 
that overtop one another and roll away to 
the far horizon in huge, billowy masses. 
Well-kept roadways climb the sides of 
these hills and farm buildings nestle in 
protected corners and fertile valleys. 
Prosperous villages are interspersed in 
sufficient proximity to give a neigh- 
borly feeling to it all, but not so closely 
set as to take away from the prevailing 
charm of unspoiled nature. 

Showers throughout the summer 
season are frequent, preserving until 
autumn the freshness of the foliage and 
fields. The name, Green Mountains, is 
well applied to these beautiful hills. 

No part of New England affords a 
more delightful retreat from the noise 
and heat of the city, and this is increas- 
ingly utilized by those so fortunate as to 
be able either to acquire summer homes 
or to spend a portion of their time in its 
many delightful hostelries. 

Perhaps the most beautiful summer 
home in the neighbourhood of Mont- 
pelier is that of Professor J. W. Burgess, 
Dean of the Law School of Columbia 
University. This estate, known as "Red- 
stone," is one of the most beautiful ex- 
amples of American home building. Sites 
equally advantageous meet the home- 
lover at every turn, and the traveller is 
drawn to become a home-builder by the 
subtle lure of their waiting beauty. 

Expansion may not always be the 
measure of success. Montpelier will be 
a beautiful and delightfully livable city, 
affording all that the most cultured can 
demand of the life of our day, even 
though large growth should not be its im- 
mediate destiny. At the same time its 
natural advantages are so many and so 
substantial, that their full utilization can- 
not but mean a growth in population and 
wealth that will give to the capital of the 
Green Mountain State as high a rank 
among our New England cities, for com- 
mercial importance as it now holds for 
beauty and interest. 



With Banners of Fire 

A Tale of the Outbreak of the American Revolution. 
By PROF. INGRAHAM 



A SHORT time before the battle 
of Bunker Hill, Colonel Prescott 
and Major Putnam held an im- 
portant conference. When this 
was over, Colonel Prescott said : 

"It is important to send a dispatch to 
Concord, N. H. at once, it is even more 
important to communicate quickly with 
Col. Ethan Allen in the New Hampshire 
grants. Can you suggest a cool, brave, 
reliable man who will volunteer to carry 
dispatches to these points at the risk of 
his life?" 

"I have the best man for the mission," 
replied Major Putnam without hesita- 
tion. "He is Gideon Webster Taylor of 
Franconia, N. H. He is 19 years old. 
He may seem young for so important a 
service, but Gideon is no ordinary youth. 
He's a sure shot, an expert rider and 
the swiftest runner I ever saw." 

"He may answer you with a quotation 
from the Bible or, when somewhat ex- 
cited, talk like the people in the old 
Testament. Like the old Puritans, he 
believes in the direct interposition of the 
Lord in the every day affairs of men. 
Like them he believes that the Lord fre- 
quently communicates His will to His 
followers by dreams or visions. But he 
doesn't carry this belief to the extreme 
point of neglecting his own efforts. You 
must know this to understand the sin- 
gular youth. 

"In my opinion, if any man in this 
Colony can get these important dispatches 
through the British lines, Gideon Taylor 
will do it." 

"You interest me deeply in this pe- 
culiar youth," said Colonel Prescott. 
"Will you send for him ?" 

"I can call him," replied Major Put- 
nam. "He accompanied me to this con- 



ference and stayed outside to watch for 
British spies." 

Major Putnam took a silver whistle 
from his pocket and blew three short, 
loud calls. 

Presently Gideon Taylor entered the 
room. After the preliminary introduc- 
tion and a few pleasant remarks, Colonel 
Prescott observed the youth keenly. 

Belknapp, in his admirable history of 
New Hampshire, states : "Gideon Taylor 
was six feet and four inches in height 
and his slender, lithe figure made him 
look still taller. His head seemed some- 
what too large for the slender body and 
was highly developed in the upper front, 
especially around the organ of Vener- 
ation." 

"Mr. Taylor" said Colonel Prescott, 
"we want to send important dispatches 
to Concord, N. H. and to New Haven 
at the lower falls of Otter creek, in the 
Grants. Do you know the roads?" 

"As the ox knoweth his master and 
the ass his master's crib" replied the tall 
young mountain giant in respectful tones. 
"My father, David Taylor, is a drover 
who buys cattle for the Boston market. 
I've accompanied him so much that I 
know the roads of New Hampshire as 
David of old knew the hills about Jeru- 
salem. If you please, sir, call me Gideon. 
'Tis a goodly Bible name." 

The officers exchanged glances at this 
reply and Colonel Prescott continued I 

"Would you like to carry these dis- 
patches, Gideon? The mission will be 
so dangerous that we don't want any 
man to undertake it unless he is willing 
to do his best and, if need be, give up 
his life for the good of his country." 

"I'll take the dispatches, sir, and do 
all I can to get them through. I came 

65 



66 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



here to give my life for my country. It's 
been revealed to us, as to the prophets of 
old, that I would not lose my life on this 
mission, but in a battle upon a hill." 

"What do you mean by such strange 
words, Gideon?" asked Colonel Prescott 
in great surprise. 

"A short time ago my mother had a 
vision from the Lord in the night. In 
this vision, she saw a hill beside a great 
city by the sea. Many men were at 
work upon this hill in the night, build- 
ing mounds of earth, wood and grass. 
When it was day, soldiers in red coats 
marched up the hill. There was a great 
right with shouting and tumult. 

''When the smoke cleared, my mother 
marked the body of her first born son 
upon the field of the slain. The back 
was toward her so she saw not the face, 
but the mother knoweth her son." 

Colonel Prescott and Major Putnam 
looked at each other in amazement. At 
this time the plan to occupy Bunker hill 
in the night was known to only a very 
few of the Colonial leaders. How had 
this Puritan mother, in her distant home 
in the mountain solitudes, foreseen this 
event and the death of her son? 

"Do you mean to tell us, Gideon, that 
you came here with the belief that 
you wouldn't return to your home?" in- 
quired Colonel Prescott. 

"I do believe so, sir. My mother 
wept over me as Rachel for her children. 
But she bade me go and tarry not by the 
way, for such was the will of Heaven." 

As this matter was beyond the com- 
prehension of the officers, they wisely 
dropped it. 

"You may carry the dispatches, 
Gideon," said Colonel Prescott, pleas- 
antly. "We'll make you the young dis- 
patch-bearer of the Colony and I feel 
that you will act in such a way as to 
justify our confidence in you. To avoid 
British spies, I think you'd better not 
start until two hours after dark. 

"Return here at that time. We'll have 
everything ready for you and furnish all 
you'll need for the journey. We'll also 
pay you well for your willing and faith- 
ful service." 

"T'll do my best sir, to deliver the 
dispatches and the event is with the 



Lord. But I don't want any pay. I 
didn't come here to serve my country for 
money." 

After Gideon departed, Colonel Pres- 
cott said: "I believe that boy will be 
true as steel and faithful unto death." 

Colonel Prescott wrote the dispatches 
upon very thin paper which he rolled into 
two balls and then covered with lead, 
so that in size and appearance they 
dosely resembled the bullets which 
Gideon would carry in his pouch. 

At the appointed time, Gideon ap- 
peared. 

"I'm glad to find you so prompt," said 
Colonel Prescott, pleasantly. It will be 
best for you to start at once. 

"The dispatches are in these bullets. 
You can easily tell them from the others 
by their light weight. This one on which 
I have scratched a faint X is to be given 
to the Committee of Public Safety at 
Concord. The other is for Col. Ethan 
Allen. 

"Here is another, and an unexpected 
dispatch, of equal, perhaps greater, im- 
portance. It was written by General 
Gage, commander of the British army in 
Boston, to Captain La Place, the com- 
mander at Ft. Ticonderoga. We have 
just captured the messenger who started 
from Boston with it. 

"I've opened and read General Gage's 
dispatch and found it of great im- 
portance. It has been closed so care- 
fully that it does not appear to have been 
opened. Put it in your breast pocket 
where you can get at it quickly. If you 
are halted by any of the British, show 
this genuine dispatch from General Gage 
and say you are the King's messenger. I 
think this will pass you through their 
lines quickly and without suspicion. 

"When you find Col. Ethan Allen give 
him the other bullet and this dispatch 
from the British commander. I hope 
that the suggestion in my letter to him 
and the information in this dispatch will 
lead to the capture of the British forts 
of Ticonderoga and Crown Point. 

"Your mission is very important. It 
may change the flags above these great 
forts and have an important effect upon 
the history of a new nation. 

"Above all other things, do not let my 



WITH BANNERS OF FIRE 



67 



dispatches in the bullets fall into British 
hands. If you are captured and there 
is no other way, conceal or destroy them. 

''Now it's time to start. I'll conduct 
you to your horse. He's been loaned, for 
your use, by a wealthy patriot. You see 
he's a large, powerful animal, half 
Arabian, and he has more speed and en- 
durance than any other horse in the 
Colony f that I know of. 

"I leave the choice of roads and other 
matters to your discretion. I suggest 
that you ride as far as you can tonight 
and stop with trusty friends tomorrow; 
then ride night and day until your mis- 
sion is accomplished. Whether you suc- 
ceed or fail, return as soon as you can 
and report to me. 

"Goodbye, Gideon, may the good Lord 
bless and guide you." 

It was a still, balmy evening in early 
June, with a bright moon. The White 
Mountain boy started upon his mission 
in high spirits. Like most boys, he had 
great confidence in his capacity to 
achieve success. "In the bright lexicon 
of youth, there's no such word as fail." 

Gideon decided to go by the main high- 
way to Manchester, thence to Concord. 
He had no uniform or anything else 
which would show to which army he 
belonged and he believed that with 
General Gage's dispatch to aid him, he 
could pass for a King's messenger in the 
night, without trouble. 

The British dispatch bearer had been 
captured so recently and in such a man- 
ner that it was not likely to become 
known for some time. If the affair were 
discovered, the Colonial dispatch bearer 
hoped to travel faster than the news. 

The drover's son loved a good horse. 
By his experience with such animals, he 
knew that he was riding one of the best 
in the region. The powerful steed bore 
him on with ease and swiftness. 

During the night, he met and passed 
several parties of British cavalry. He 
was challenged, but when he said he was 
a dispatch bearer and exhibited the gen- 
uine one from General Gage, he was 
allowed to go on without further ques- 
tion and, so far as he could judge, with- 
out arousing the least suspicion. 

Several times he halted at the top of 



some long hill to breathe his horse and 
listen for lurking foes. But nothing 
came to his ears except the usual noises 
of night in the country. Still, without 
apparent reason, singular forebodings 
seemed to intensify each sound. 

If the young dispatch bearer could 
have looked back several miles, he would 
have seen a sight which would have con- 
vinced him that he was in grave peril 
indeed. A large force of about 300 
British cavalry and 50 Indians were fol- 
lowing Gideon. They were tracking him 
with torches in the night. 

The Indians rode in advance. Some 
of them had torches. At intervals sev- 
eral of the red warriors would lie, face 
down, upon their horses, with one arm 
around the animal's neck and the other 
holding down a torch so as to brightly 
illuminate the roadway. Very soon some 
of them would point, with grunts of 
satisfaction, to impressions of a broken 
horse shoe in the earth which had be- 
come slightly moistened by the dews of 
night. 

In his admirable history of New 
Hampshire, Belknapp states that Gideon 
Taylor, the young dispatch bearer of the 
Colonies, was tracked from the vicinity 
of Boston to Manchester by Indians with 
torches, by the marks of a broken horse- 
shoe. 

As it happened, a British spy had 
obtained a general idea of the conversa- 
tion between Colonel Prescott and Major 
Putnam. He had seen the former write 
the dispatches and put them in the bullets, 
and found out that Gideon Taylor would 
start with them that night. 

When General Gage heard the report 
of his spy, he sent Major Nelson with 
three companies of cavalry and a party 
of Indians to intercept the young dis- 
patch bearer and secure his papers. 
Major Nelson was considered one of the 
most crafty and talented officers in the 
British service. The fact that General 
Gage sent this officer with so large a 
force to capture Colonel Prescott's dis- 
patches showed how important he con- 
sidered them. Major Nelson had another 
mission to execute in New Hampshire 
before he returned, which might require 
all his men. 



68 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



When Major Nelson learned that 
Gideon Taylor had been selected to carry 
the Colonial dispatches, he felt quite 
sure, from reasons which will develop 
later, that the young mountaineer would 
go straight to a certain home in Man- 
chester and stay there the first day. The 
British officer had a very powerful 
motive for wishing to capture and humi- 
liate the youth at this home. So he fol- 
lowed at a distance, taking every pre- 
caution to be sure he was on the right 
track and that his intended victim did 
not turn from the main road. 

With no suspicion of these matters, 
except the gloomy forebodings which de- 
pressed him, Gideon halted about two 
hours after sunrise, on the summit of a 
hill, whence he could see the country 
home of Judge Enoch Webster, in what 
is now the city of Manchester. 

Judge Webster was one of the most 
wealthy and influential men in the Col- 
ony. At this time the British thought 
he was loyal to the King and the con- 
servative party, like the majority of men 
of large property. But he was a Patriot, 
and soon after took a decided stand, 
doing what he could to establish inde- 
pendence. This country home of Judge 
Webster is within the present city limits 
of Manchester. 

Gideon rode from the top of the hill 
through the woods to a rich back pasture 
on the Webster farm. There he dis- 
mounted, removed the saddle and bridle, 
and turned out his horse to rest and feed 
during the day. Concealing the equip- 
ments of the horse under some thick 
bushes, the young dispatch bearer walked 
swiftly across the hay fields to the man- 
sion. 

Gideon opened the back door and en- 
tered without knocking, as though he 
were a frequent and privileged visitor. 
The Webster and Taylor families in New 
Hampshire are distantly related. For 
generations it has been the custom of 
each family of Websters to name one 
child Taylor, and for the Taylors to 
give one of their children the name of 
Webster in the same manner. Thus the 
families had become very intimate. 

Tn the kitchen, a beautiful maiden 
about seventeen years old, was sitting at 



a small table, engaged in some sort of 
feminine fancy work. She was Marion 
Taylor Webster, the only child of Judge 
Webster. 

When the tall form of Gideon Taylor 
entered the room so unexpectedly, the 
maiden started to her feet with a little 
feminine scream. 

"Oh, Gideon, how you startled me! 
I'm so glad to see you, just now. I 
thought you had gone to Massachusetts." 

The charming blushes which suffused 
her fair face, the tender glances from her 
bright eyes, and the tones of her sweet 
voice, indicated that Marion felt a more 
than sisterly regard for the tall young 
mountaineer. The dark, stern face of 
the Puritan youth softened wonderfully 
as he conversed so pleasantly with Man- 
chester's fairest flower. They had been 
playmates and friends from early child- 
hood, and their friendship appeared to be 
ripening into the holier feeling of en- 
during love. When they had conversed 
for some time, Gideon inquired : 

"Where are your parents, Marion?" 

"They started for Concord early this 
morning. Father said that events of 
great importance would soon transpire 
around Boston, and he was going there 
to assist as he could with his presence 
and resources. He will leave mother 
who is quite nervous, with her parents 
in Concord. He has left me here to look 
after things and manage the farm. You 
know he calls me a capital manager." 

"I think something important is going 
to happen very soon," replied Gideon. 
"Colonel Prescott has sent me with dis- 
patches to Concord, and to Col. Ethan 
Allen in the Grants. He told me the dis- 
patches were very important, and might 
cause great changes in the Colonies." 

"Oh, Gideon," exclaimed Marion, with 
a warm blush of surprise and delight," 
are you really the dispatch-bearer of the 
Colonies ? How highly they must esteem 
you." 

The youth related the incidents of the 
previous day and night to the girl, who 
was deeply interested. When he finished, 
she rose from her chair and exclaimed : 

"Oh, Gideon, how hungry and tired 
you must be, after riding so hard all 
night! I'll get you some breakfast as 






WITH BANNERS OF FIRE 



69 



quickly as I can and do it myself. You 
used to say, you know, that things tasted 
better when I cooked them." 

With a musical laugh, the maiden has- 
tened to prepare breakfast. Presently a 
substantial meal of fried bacon, eggs, and 
hot drink was ready for her welcome 
guest. When the meal was over, Marion 
conducted the youth to a room which she 
had darkened and said : 

"You may sleep here without worry. 
I will send our young Indian boy, who 
is sharp as a needle, to watch the road 
toward Boston. I will also take the big 
dinner-horn out to Mr. Morgan, who is 
hoeing corn in the other direction, and 
tell him to blow a long blast if any 
British appear on that side. 

"Then I'll take my work to the attic, 
where I can overlook the entire clearing 
from the windows, and watch for your 
safety, while you sleep." 

Gideon was somewhat amused by the 
maiden's elaborate plans for watching 
over him. At the same time it touched 
his heart deeply to have her show so 
much solicitude for his safety. 

It was late' in the afternoon when the 
young dispatch-bearer of the Colonies 
awoke. He was enjoying a bountiful 
supper with his fair hostess, when they 
were startled by a long, loud blast from 
the big dinner-horn. Before the warning 
blast ceased, the Indian boy ran into the 
room and exclaimed in great excitement : 

"The whole British army is coming at 
a gallop. Run, run, for your life." 

But before Gideon could get to the out- 
side door, the mansion was surrounded 
by a large number of red-coated horse- 
men. It was by no means the whole 
British army, but it was the largest force 
the Indian boy had ever seen. 

Major Nelson, the most crafty British 
officer in the Colonies, had arrived with 
his men, and surrounded the young dis- 
patch bearer, just as he had planned be- 
fore he left Boston. 

For some time, Major Nelson had been 
a suitor for the hand and heart of Marion 
Webster, the most beautiful and wealth- 
iest heiress in New Hampshire. He felt 
that ^ideon Taylor was his most dan- 
^ei ri>-1. When General Gage sent 

him to capture Gideon Taylor, the Col- 



onial dispatch-bearer, the cunning officer 
was quick to perceive the great ad- 
vantage of the most singular situation. 
He was quite sure that Gideon would 
ride straight to the home of Marion 
Webster. He would follow and capture 
him there in so humiliating a manner as 
to show the fair heiress the vast differ- 
ence between a British officer of high 
rank and a poor Colonial country boy. 
He would manage the affair in such a 
manner as 10 put an end to any further 
love-making between what he considered 
"His Marion" and the despised Yankee 
lad. 

At the same time, Major Nelson plan- 
ned to insinuate himself more deeply 
into the favor of Marion's father and, 
without appearing to do so, force the 
most influential man in the Colony into 
an open declaration for the cause of the 
King. 

When he had caught the Colonial dis- 
patch bearer and secured the important 
papers, his instructions were to capture 
some Colonial stores between Manchester 
and Concord. It was for this reason that 
he had so large a force. 

As Marion surveyed the imposing 
British force through the windows, she 
exclaimed with great agitation : 

"Oh, Gideon, what can we do now? 
We are both lost through my careless- 
ness. Oh, why didn't I watch from the 
attic windows while you were eating?" 

"You've done the best you could 
Marion," replied Gideon. No one could 
have foreseen that the British would fol- 
low me with so large a force, and no one 
could have planned against such over- 
whelming odds. I now see that my 
strange forebodings were sent as a warn- 
ing by a higher power. But I — " 

He was interrupted by loud but 
respectful rapping upon the front door 
of the mansion. Marion and Gideon 
went to a front room, whence they could 
see what was going on in that direction. 

"Oh, Gideon, what shall we do?" ex- 
claimed Marion for the second time, 
while her delicate form trembled with 
excitement. 

"You had better go to the door and 
answer the knocking, my dear Marion," 
replied Gideon in calmer tones. "They 



70 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



may not know that I am here. They 
ma}* have another reason for coming 
here. It's young Major Nelson who is 
knocking at the door. I've met him at 
this house before. I know that he will 
not hurt the daughter of Judge Web- 
ster." 

"Oh dear, it isn't that," said Marion, 
as a crimson blush burned on her cheeks. 
"I am not afraid of Major Nelson. But 
I don't want to see him here now. Oh 
dear, this is awful. I do believe he's — " 

Without completing her sentence, 
Marion went to the door. The swift in- 
tuitions of the young woman had 
divined the deep plot of the crafty Major, 
and her heart was sorely troubled. She 
was aware that the open-hearted Gideon 
had no suspicion of the cunning trap 
which his rival for her love had prepared. 
How could she warn him of his terrible 
danger without revealing to him the most 
precious secret of her heart? 

As Marion, hesitating between two 
courses, slowly opened the front door, 
the handsome Major Nelson touched his 
cap very gracefully and said in his ac- 
customed smooth easy tones 

''Good afternoon, my fair Marion. I 
regret exceedingly to intrude at this time. 
But a soldier's duty to his King must be 
my excuse. We have tracked a Colonial 
spy with important papers, to this house. 

"I think I know the youth. He's a 
good-hearted country lad who has been 
led into rebellion by older men. I would 
like to talk with him for a few minutes. 
I pledge my honor as a British officer 
that if he will not accept my proposal he 
may return to the protection of your 
house without any interference from us." 

Before the agitated girl could reply, 
the tall form of Gideon Taylor appeared 
by her side in the doorway. 

Marion stepped back into the entry, 
where she could see what transpired and 
hear what was said. She was greatly 
troubled for she believed the impetuous 
dispatch-bearer was plunging blindly 
into deadly danger. She thought the 
open-hearted mountaineer was no match 
in conversation for the wily, educated 
British officer. 

After a pleasant greeting and a few 
preliminary remarks Major Nelson said: 



"My dear Mr. Taylor, you have two 
silver bullets which contain dispatches of 
very great importance to the cause of 
your good King. You can see very plain- 
ly that you are surrounded by almost 
four hundred trained English soldiers 
and experienced Indians. The fortunes 
of war are against you. It is very clear 
that it is impossible for any human being 
to escape from such overwhelming odds. 

'"Colonel Prescott, the Colonial leader, 
sent you upon this mission with these 
dispatches. He is somewhat mistaken 
in his political ideas, but he is clear- 
headed and reasonable. Were he in your 
position, I am sure that he would sur- 
render and give up the papers without a 
moment's hesitation. 

"Why not follow Colonel Prescott's 
example, Mr. Taylor, and give up the 
dispatches in a pleasant, good-natured 
manner. There is no need of any un- 
pleasantness over this affair. You have 
done all that any man could do, and you 
can retire with all the honors of war. 

"The great King has work for bright 
young men like you. Here is a commis- 
sion for you as captain in the English 
army in India. It means much to a 
young man to become a captain in the 
army of the King. 

"If you prefer to retire to your farm, 
here is a heavy bag of gold which will 
make you the wealthiest man among your 
mountains. 

"Mr. Taylor, what is your answ r er?" 

With a face which was pale with ex- 
citement and lips parted in breathless 
interest, Marion waited for Gideon's 
answer. Her quick intuitions pierced 
into the dark depths of Major Nelson's 
evil plotting. 

During Major Nelson's crafty speech, 
the dark aquiline face of the stern 
Puritan dispatch bearer had exhibited 
no change. In slow, measured tones he 
replied : 

"Major Nelson, I think I understand 
you. Verily, I will answer and say unto 
thee, in the words of the Holy One, upon 
the high mountain, in the great desert : 

" "Get thee behind me, Satan.' ' : 

With the swiftness of an arrow. 
Gideon leaped back through the door, 
shut and barred it. 



WITH BANNERS OF FIRE 



71 



"Oh, Gideon," exclaimed Marion, 
"that was the grandest answer in Col- 
onial history. 1 shall never forgive my- 
self for thinking that you were not sharp 
enough for him. That awful answer will 
follow Major Nelson to the grave." 

Gideon's answer was so entirely unex- 
pected that Major Nelson, for a moment, 
came very near to an outbreak of wrath. 
By a powerful effort, the man of craft 
suppressed his emotions. Then he said, 
more to himself than to his officers : 

"By Jove, there's no other obstinacy 
on this earth like the obstinacy of a 
Puritan." 

"Shall we smoke the sassy young rebel 
out of the old coop, Major," inquired the 
coarse voice of Lieutenant Griffin. 

"No, my dear lieutenant," replied the 
commander, "that would not be good 
policy in this case. The house is the 
property of Judge Webster, the most in- 
fluential man in this Colony. He is 
somewhat wavering in politics and it is 
very important that we do nothing to 
arouse his anger at this most critical 
time. 

"Mr. Morgan, the hired man, told me 
that the Judge went to Concord this 
morning. I will prepare a dispatch im- 
mediately and send you after him, as 
you are one of our swiftest riders. 

"He will return at once and take 
charge of affairs at his own house. This 
will put him in a position where he must 
declare for the King or for the Colonies. 
I have no doubt whatever that Judge 
Webster will deliver the young rebel to 
us and place his immense wealth and 
influence upon our side." 

Major Nelson was anxious that nothing 
should occur during the affair to excite 
the displeasure of Marion, the beautiful 
heiress. He feared that the Indians, 
who were difficult to control, would do 
something to arouse her indignation. As 
the young dispatch-bearer was so secure- 
ly caged that escape was impossible, there 
was no further need for their services at 
the Webster place. So the Commander 
sent them, under the charge of an officer, 
to watch the vicinity where the Colonial 
stores were gathered. 

In the meantime, Marion and Gideon 
had returned to the kitchen. The maiden 



appeared to be thinking about their sin- 
gular situation. 

"What did Major Nelson mean by sil- 
ver bullets, Gideon? You didn't tell me 
that the dispatches were in silver bullets." 

"I do not quite understand it myself," 
replied Gideon. "I think the British 
have been misinformed. Perhaps a spy 
saw Colonel Prescott when he prepared 
the dispatches, and at a distance mistook 
the shining appearance of newly-cut lead 
for silver. Perhaps he invented the story 
of the silver bullets to enhance the value 
of his services. At any rate there are no 
silver bullets connected with this affair." 

On this point, it may be stated that 
Church, Belknapp, Graham and other 
early historians state that Colonel Pres- 
cott's famous dispatches were enclosed 
in silver bullets. The incidents of this 
narrative were related to the writer by 
Colonel John W. Taylor of Concord, 
N. H., a grandson of Gideon Taylor. 

"Now, Gideon," said she, in a reflec- 
tive manner, "can't we contrive some 
plan for you to get away with the im- 
portant dispatches? It's just awful to be 
caged up here like wild beasts." 

"I can see no hope for escape," replied 
Gideon, in a despondent tone. "It's the 
most hopeless situation I was ever in. 
The numbers of the British are too over- 
whelming. Tonight, they will, no doubt, 
surround the house with a circle of 
bright camp fires and sentries so that I 
cannot crawl away in the dark." 

"Halloo, there's a commotion among 
them, Marion. Run up to the attic win- 
dow and see what it means. While 
you're gone, I'll pray for Divine guid- 
ance. To the Lord, alone, can we look 
for deliverance." 

Marion glanced at her companion with 
a peculiar expression, but she started on 
her mission without making any reply. 
As soon as she was gone, the Puritan 
youth knelt in a humble manner and 
offered a simple earnest prayer for the 
success of his mission. 

As he was engaged in this prayer of 
Christian faith, he thought that a voice 
answered him. The Puritan arose with a 
joyful exclamation. 

"It cannot fail !" he exclaimed. "Verily, 
the Lord is good. He hath delivered 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



mine enemies into my hands and brought 
low the pride of the scornful." 

Presently, Marion returned with the 
information that the commotion was 
caused by the departure of the Indians. 
They had gone toward Concord. 

She regarded Gideon with surprise. 
A great change seemed to have passed 
over him during her short absence. His 
countenance was shining with a new-born 
hope. A strange light, such as she had 
never seen before, glowed in his eyes, 

"Why, Gideon, what's happened?" 
Marion exclaimed. 

"As I prayed," answered the Puritan 
youth, "a Voice answered and said unto 
me: 

" 'Arise, Gideon, thou son of David, 
arise and gird up thy loins, for thou 
shalt go forth and thine enemies will not 
prevail against thee.' " 

With an almost despairing cry, the 
maiden put her arms around Gideon and 
exclaimed : 

"Oh, my Gideon, you are surely mad. 
These awful troubles have unsettled 
your brain. I will not let you go forth 
to certain destruction. Oh, my Gideon, 
stop and think. In all human history no 
other man has ever gone forth, alone and 
almost unarmed, against three hundred 
experienced soldiers of the King. 'Tis 
madness, utter madness, my Gideon." 

In the most gentle manner, the Puritan 
unclasped the clinging hands of the 
maiden. Then in a very soothing tone 
he answered : 

' 'Tis the will of the Lord, not my 
will, my Marion. His voice has com- 
manded me to go forth. Doth He not 
hold the fate of armies in the hollow of 
His hand? Hath He not promised to go 
with me and be my buckler and my 
shield ? T fear not the hosts of England, 
for all their strength shall become as 
water and they will not prevail against 
me. 'Tis the will of the Lord that these 
Colonial dispatches be delivered." 

The quick intuitions of the woman per- 
ceived that something, which had only 
partially been revealed to her, had hap- 
pened anrl moved her strong companion 
to the deepest depths of his soul. She re- 
alized that it would do no good to try to 
reason with him any further at this time. 



So Marion stood mute and motionless be- 
fore Gideon and regarded him with eyes 
which expressed more than her tongue 
would utter. 

"Now, my Marion, go once more to the 
attic windows and see how many men 
there are in the rear of the house at the 
back door, how many there are in front, 
whether they are all sitting on their 
horses and whether those in front are 
spread out enough so many of them can 
see what is going on at the back door." 

As Marion did not move or speak and 
continued to look at him in a peculiar 
manner, Gideon added, in a very gentle 
tone: 

"You need not fear to leave me, my 
Marion. I will not go forth until you 
return. I have many preparations to 
make before I go. Some of them I can- 
not manage without your help. 

This assurance satisfied Marion and 
she ascended to the attic quickly. 

To clearly understand the extraor- 
dinary events that will follow swiftly, it 
will be necessary to describe the grounds 
around the mansion of Judge Webster. 
The house stood in the center of an al- 
most circular clearing, about a mile in 
diameter. That is, it was about half a' 
mile from the house to the surrounding 
forest, in any direction. 

Between the mansion and the woods, 
there were two cultivated fields and a 
pasture. There was no fence between 
the house and the first field. But be- 
tween the first field and the second there 
was an old-fashioned zigzag fence of 
large logs, partly decayed and moss- 
covered. The pasture was separated 
from the second field by a high, single 
wall of large stones. There was no fence 
between the pasture and the edge of the 
woods. On that side, the pasture fence 
was a few rods within the forest so the 
farm animals could go to a brook within 
the woods to drink and have the cool 
shade of the trees during the heat of 
midday. Marion came back from the 
attic with the information that there 
were about one hundred men at the 
back of the house, without officers ; a 
few men were watching the side win- 
dows and the rest were at the front of 
the mansion. The officers were gathered 



WITH BANNERS OF FIRE 



73 



about Major Nelson at the front door, 
evidently discussing some important 
movement. The privates were in a close 
group near them, and were not extended 
so any of them could see what was going 
on at the back door. All of the officers 
and privates were still on the backs of 
their horses. 

" 'Tis better than I even hoped," said 
Gideon. "Verily, I can see that the Lord 
is already working for my deliverance. 
Now, my Marion, get me the large can 
of whale oil." 

Marion obeyed. With feminine curi- 
ousity, she wondered exceedingly what 
her companion was going to do with 
whale oil. 

Two large English flags, rolled around 
their staffs, stood in one corner of the 
kitchen. These flags were about nine 
feet square, made of thick, expensive 
cloth and attached to short strong staffs, 
which fitted into iron rings at the attic 
window at each end of the house. On 
great occasions, they made a fine appear- 
ance floating above the ends of the man- 
sion. 

The Puritan youth unrolled these royal 
banners and saturated them thoroughly 
with the oil. Whale oil, which was plenti- 
ful in those times, will burn for a long 
time with a great, very bright flame. 
Then he lit a candle at the kitchen fire 
and placed it near the back door. 

Marion could now understand that it 
was Gideon's plan to frighten the horses 
of the British with fire. She knew that 
the unexpected appearance of a great fire 
will cause horses to become frantic with 
fear; but she could not see how a small 
flame would accomplish much among so 
many animals while they were scattered 
over so wide a territory. 

It was dusk or late twilight, a time 
when all objects become somewhat dis- 
torted and exaggerated by unnatural 
cross lights and reflections. 

"Now, my Marion," said Gideon, with 
the first emotion he had shown," the time 
has come for me to go forth alone against 
the hosts of the Philistines. The result 
is with the Lord. He alone can tell 
whether we ever see each other again. 
Will you kiss me, my dear, before I 
start ?" 



"Oh, my Gideon, how 1 love you," ex- 
claimed the fair maiden with deep emo- 
tion, as she impulsively clasped her arms 
aiound the neck of the young man. 

Lips met lips in the long, lingering kiss 
of true love. The peerless Marion 
Webster had made her decision between 
her English and her Golonial lovers. 

A few minutes later, the Puritan ig- 
nited the flags with the candle and said : 

"Now, my Marion, swing the door 
wide open and then run to the attic win- 
dow, whence you may behold the power 
and glory of the Lord." 

Marion opened the large back door. 
The young giant of the mountains went 
forth waving his two great banners of 
living, leaping fire, and uttering the most 
terrifying yells. 

An observer, at a little distance, might 
have thought a whirlwind of fire was 
sweeping, with the swiftness of a sum- 
mer tempest, upon the astounded British 
cavalry. 

In a moment, the terrified horses were 
beyond the control of their riders. The 
frantic animals snorted and leaped, 
reared and plunged about so that their 
riders had all they could do to retain 
their seats, and could not use a weapon. 

Some of the horses reared so wildly 
that they fell backwards upon their 
riders ; others bounded and plunged 
against one another, until they became 
entangled and went down in confused 
and strugling heaps, their numbers add- 
ing to the bewildering tumult ; a few 
galloped madly from the scene, defying 
the utmost exertions of their riders. 

For a moment, the British cavalry 
were as helpless and powerless as though 
they were chaff amid a whirlwind of fire. 

Loud and clear above all this bewilder- 
ing confusion and tumult sounded the 
' mighty shouting of the mountain giant, 
not in the tones of those who go forth 
to doubtful battle, but in the exulting 
peans of the conqueror: 

"The sword of the Lord and of Gid- 
eon. The sword of the Lord and of 
Gideon." 

Belknapp, the historian, asserts that 
this is the only occasion in English his- 
tory where a large British force was 
swept away in wild confusion before a 



74 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



single man bearing their own blazing 
banners. 

Marion ran to the attic, whence she 
could look down upon this unparalleled 
scene. Scarcely had she reached the 
window, when she saw, through the dusk, 
a tall form slip from the disordered mass 
and run toward the woods with a swift- 
ness that seemed more than human. The 
maiden knew that the young dispatch- 
bearer of the Colonies had succeeded in 
bursting through the British lines. But 
the daring young man was still in deadly 
danger. 

It was only a moment before the Brit- 
ish in front of the mansion realized what 
was going on in the rear. With his usual 
quickness of decision, Major Nelson 
started at once, with his entire force, in 
pursuit of the fugitive. 

As the great body of red-coated cav- 
alry came galloping at full speed around 
the house, Marion leaned her little body 
out of the window and, with every nerve 
thrilling with excitement, screamed at 
the top of her voice, unconsciously adopt- 
ing the Biblical language of which her 
lover was so fond : 

"Run, my Gideon, run, for the Philis- 
tines are upon thee!" 

Gideon Taylor was called the swiftest 
runner in New Hampshire. He had need 
for all his swiftness now. The woods of 
safety were half a mile away. Almost 
300 horsemen were following him at 
their best speed, only a few rods behind 
him. 

Several shots were fired at him with- 
out apparent effect. When Major Nel- 
son heard these orders he shouted 
sternly : 

"Don't fire again until I give you the 
word. The obstinate Puritan may have 
hidden the silver bullets before he 
started. We must catch him alive and 
force the secret of their hiding-place 
from him. We will not shoot him except 
as a last resort, when we can prevent his 
escape in no other way." 

The young dispatch-bearer reached the 
log fence between the first and second 
fields a few yards in advance of his 
pursuers. Placing his hands upon the 
top log he swung himself over and con- 
tinued his flight. 



When the horsemen arrived, some of 
them dismounted and lifted the logs to 
one side so as to form a wide gap 
through which the others poured. This 
was done very quickly. Still it gave 
Gideon a chance to almost double his 
lead in his sore need. 

The grass was almost full grown and 
impeded his progress. When he arrived 
at the stone wall between the second field 
and the pasture, he could feel upon his 
back, the hot breath of the foremost 
horses. 

The youth swung himself over the 
wall, turned quickly and discharged both 
of his pistols at the pursuing horsemen. 
Two horses fell, several others stumbled 
over the bodies into a disordered and 
struggling heap beside the wall. It also 
took a little longer to remove the heavy 
stones than it had to lift aside the logs. 
So Gideon, once more, gained a few 
yards. 

It was now clear that the red-coated 
riders would catch the Colonial dispatch- 
bearer before he could reach the woods. 
He seemed to realize this, to lose his 
coolness and become bewildered. 

Up to this point, he had run in a 
straight course from the back door of 
the mansion to the forest. Now he 
turned to the right toward a low steep 
hill. This hill was composed of ledges 
partially covered with stunted bushes, 
where a scant soil had collected in the 
hollows of the rock. It afforded no hid- 
ing-place. The hill was so rough, steep 
and broken that the British could sur- 
round long before the youth could cross 
it. 

When the British saw Gideon turn and 
run for this peculiar hill they uttered a 
shout of joy, for his capture was now 
only a matter of a few moments. 

The Colonial dispatch-bearer, by a 
prodigous effort, reached this hill a few- 
feet in advance of the foremost horse- 
men. As he bounded up the steep slope 
through bushes which were not quite so 
high as his head, Major Nelson snouted : 

"Fire! Shoot to kill!" 

More than 200 guns flashed and roared 
upon the poor boy. It did not seem poss- 
ible that so many experienced marksmen 
could all fail to hit him at such short 



WITH BANXKRS OF KIRK 



73 



range. The effect of their shooting was 
not visible to them, for the smoke of so 
many guns combined with the dusk of 
evening completely concealed the spot 
where he was last seen, for a few mo- 
ments. 

There has been much controversy 
among historians, relative to Major 
Nelson's reasons for this cruel deed, 
which does not accord with his usual 
conduct. Perhaps the significant words 
which the excited Marion screamed from 
the attic window, "Run, my Gideon, 
run," were rankling in the crafty mind of 
the British commander, and he consid- 
ered it the best course for his own inter- 
ests to remove his only rival for the hand 
of the wealthiest heiress in the colony. 

As soon as Major Nelson gave the 
order to fire, he commanded his men to 
surround the hill. This was done so 
quickly that Gideon could not have got 
away, if the bullets had missed him. The 
part of the hill which extended into the 
forest was a bare ledge which no person 
could cross without being seen. Several 
of the soldiers leaped from their horses 
and formed a line over this ledge so that 
the hill was entirely surrounded by a wall 
of men. 

Before the smoke cleared Major 
Nelson, with some of his principal 
officers, ascended the hill to find the body 
of the young dispatch-bearer and search 
his clothing for the "Silver bullets." To 
their unbounded amazement, the body 
had disappeared. There was no trace 
that any person had been there before 
they came. 

Major Nelson summoned some of his 
best men and sent others to procure 
torches. They examined every part of 
the hill with great care, but they found no 
trace of the vanished youth. 

Two hours have passed. The camp- 
fires of the British are burning brightly 
around the mysterious hill. 

Marion is pacing the attic with the 
irregular steps which indicate a troubled 
mind. Her face is pale, her eyes show 
that she has been weeping. She is mourn- 
ing for Gideon Taylor as for the death 
of a loved one. 



A whip-poor-will, one of the most 
common birds in that region, uttered his 
melodious call from the forest north of 
the mansion. Marion gave a startled 
cry and ran to the window. 

Jt was so dark that she could see only 
a vague outline of the forest, whence 
came the mysterious call. But she lis- 
tened with great eagerness. 

Twice more the sweet warbler of the 
night sent forth his quavering cry. Then 
an owl, perhaps awakened by the other 
bird, uttered three discordant hoots. 

These familiar sounds of night in the 
country wrought a singular transforma- 
tion in the appearance of the maiden. 
Her eyes sparkled with new hope, the 
bright crimson spots on her cheeks in- 
dicated how fast her heart was throbbing. 

" 'Tis he!" she cried, joyfully. " 'Tis 
he ! My Gideon lives and calls me. Tis 
the old signal, I know so well. He's at 
our old trysting-place under the great 
oak, too. How did he get there, a mile 
from the hill ? 

"Oh dear, perhaps they shot hirn, and 
he's crawled there through the dark 
woods. Oh, I'll fly to his aid." 

The excited girl ran down the stairs, 
hastily prepared two bundles and in- 
structed the Indian boy to follow at 
some distance and watch against any sur- 
prise from the British. Then, throwing 
a dark shawl over her head, she slipped 
from the front door and ran toward the 
woods, in an exactly opposite direction 
to the course that Gideon took when he 
escaped by the back door. 

As she approached the forest a taller 
form advanced to meet her. A moment 
later the two forms seemed to blend into 
one. Then Marion exclaimed : 

"Oh, my dear Gideon, are you hurt"? 

The tall youth felt of his ribs some- 
what dubiously and replied : "No, my 
dear Marion, I don't seem to be hurt. 
That was the most fervent hugging I 
ever got, but it didn't hurt. On the con- 
trary, it has done me good." 

"Oh, Gideon," exclaimed Marion while 
her blushes were so vivid as to be almost 
visible in the darkness, "how can you 
talk so? You know I didn't mean that. 



76 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Did the British shoot you?" 

"Oh, no/' laughed Gideon, "their 
shooting didn't hurt me either." Then 
he continued in a more serious tone : "I 
believe that I was saved by a Divine in- 
spiration, my dear Marion. 

"As I was running through the pas- 
ture, a Voice seemed to say to me : 'The 
cave.' Then the memories of ttie cave 
in the hill, where we used to play at 
housekeeping, flashed into my mind. 

"I turned and ran toward the hill with 
new hope. As I was stepping from the 
bushes upon the ledge, I heard Major 
Nelson give the order to fire. I dropped 
instantly behind the rock we used to call 
our stove, where we cooked our clay 
cakes and pies in the sun. Concealed by 
the smoke of the discharge, I ran over 
the ledge, where my feet left no tracks, 
to the entrance to the cave. You know 
we had a large flat stone over it so as to 
hide it completely. I removed this stone, 
crawled in backwards and replaced it 
very carefully. Then I passed through 
the interior of the hill to the opening at 
the other end in the forest. 

" After waiting long enough to know 
that -the British didn't find out how I 
eluded them, I went around through the 
woods, caught my horse, put on the 
b? idle and saddle and led him around 
here to our old meeting-place. You re- 
member, this wood road leads to the 
main highway about seven miles above 
here, that is beyond any patrols the 
British may have posted." 

"Why, Gideon," exclaimed the maiden, 
"I'd forgot about the old cave in the 
hill." 

"So had I," said Gideon," until I heard 
the Voice." 

"But my Gideon," Marion went on 
with a shudder. "Major Nelson has sent 
for the Indians. Those red fiends will 
track you down." 

Gideon laughed aloud and then he re- 
plied "Tf Major Nelson and his red 
trailers follow me this night, they'll ride 
fast and far. I've the best horse in the 
colony, and I know the New Hampshire 
roads better than they do. Even if it 
were daylight and they had a plain track, 
they couldn't catch me, for T should gain 
on them at every bound. All my daneers 
are past. "But what have you in those 



bundles, my dear ?" 

"Food for you and oats for your 
horse." 

"Why, Marion, you've ever been as an 
Angel of Light to me," said Gideon with 
emotion. Then the two dark figures 
seemed again to blend into one. 

Presently, the moon rose. After long, 
lingering goodbyes, the young dispatch- 
bearer rode away upon his mission. He 
arrived at Concord without noteworthy 
adventure, delivered his dispatch and 
went on. 

After the long rest and feed, his noble 
horse was in fine condition. The power- 
ful steed seemed to devour the road be- 
fore him, and the sharp aquiline features 
of the stern Puritan rider appeared to 
cleave through the night like the blade 
of a battle-axe. 

Gideon found Col. Ethan Allen in the 
"Grants," or what is now the state of 
Vermont, and delivered the two dis- 
patches. He returned and reported to 
Colonel Prescott about midnight before 
the battle of Bunker hill. 

If this were fictitious narrative, we 
might describe how the midnight vision 
of the Puritan mother was fulfilled at 
this famous battle. But historical accur- 
acy compels us to state that Gideon 
Taylor was not killed or even wounded 
at Bunker hill. 

But the clear headed, noble-hearted 
Colonel Prescott was numbered with the 
slain. Perhaps the body which the Puri- 
tan mother saw so dimly upon the hill 
was his, not her son's. 

Gideon Taylor served his country well 
and faithfully during the Revolution. He 
attained higher rank and honor than the 
British commander offered him at the 
mansion of Judge Webster. At the close 
of the long war his grateful state voted 
a grant of a large tract of land to Col. 
Gideon W. Taylor. 

Colonel Taylor married Marion Web- 
ster. Their life was full of felicity. 
Their descendants are among the leading 
families of New England. 

Can you blame Marion Taylor if she 
was very fond of telling her grandchil- 
dren, as they gathered around her arm- 
chair, how their tall grandfather burst 
through the British army with banners 
of fire? 










ESimmHIiiHHHHHi 



Todd's Head, Eastport, Maine 




The Jumping Off Place 



By LEBARON P. COOKE 



D[RECTLY opposite the rugged 
coast of New Brunswick, push- 
ing boldly into the Bay of Passa- 
maquoddy towers Todd's Head, 
a projection of Moose Island on whose 
eastern edge lies the old seaport, East- 
port, Me., famed for its great sardine 
output, its frigid summer temperature, 
pictorial environments, and its historic 
prestige derived from its being a pivotal 
point in the war of 1812. 

The promontorious headland rising 
several hundred feet from its seaweed 
base is not merely of local interest, but 
of international importance, marking the 
extreme northeastern point of Uncle 
Sam's domain. For nearly a century it 
has borne the title, "Jumping Off Place" 
of the nation, and perhaps it has never 
more proudly reared itself in civic dig- 
nity than during the recent visit of Presi- 
dent Taft and his suite to its tip end 
from which the chief executive viewed 
the magnificent sweep of Passama- 
quoddy, and gazed into the territorial 
depths of British America. 

The ascent up the perpendicular 
heights is almost impossible; only the 
most hazardous fishermen would attempt 
to scale its slimy cliff. The view from 
the precipitous headland is one of en- 
chantment ; to the east lies the pictur- 
esque island of Campo Bello, and nowhere 
in the world can be found coast scenery 
more varied and wonderful than along 
the shores of this island of the old Ad- 
miralty, rich in its legendary romance 



and feudal loyalty. Here is a group of 
large summer hotels, while an exclusive 
summer colony adds to the summer 
charm of the place, lying almost in the 
shadow of the old "Friar," made famous 
by the noted authoress, Kate Gannett 
Wells, in her idyls of Campo Bello. Sol- 
emn and dignified, the Friar rises from 
the tree-shaded waters of the bay. Beyond 
Campo Bello, one catches glimpses of the 
giant grey cliffs of Grand Manan, mecca 
of artists and literary folk. To the north 
stretches St. Andrews Bay, and the wind- 
ing St. Croix river. With a field glass 
from the "Jumping Off Place" summit 
one can easily spy the well-known Cana- 
dian watering place, Saint Andrews, shel- 
tered beneath the Chamcook mountain. 

Nearer, one sees the Indian Reserva- 
tion of Pleasant Point, and many an 
Indian song rises above the "Jumping 
Off Place" as the red men and their 
squaws paddle by with their basketry, 
bound for the island marts. 

It is after rounding the bold extremity 
that the beautiful old provincial town of 
Eastport heaves into sight. One almost 
feels the martial tread of soldiery as his 
craft sails along in the shadow of over- 
hanging crags, past the grey warehouses, 
and dark, weird docks made tall and 
desolate by the departed tide that has 
fled in answer to the mother sea, leaving 
behind its odor, wholesome and salt. 

The tide, as is well known, rises here 
to a greater height than in any section 
of the world. As the mighty force of 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



79 




water gallops in from the Atlantic on 
the flood-tide, among the jagged ledges 
and points of rock that environ "Land's 
End," raising the level of the nearby 
caves more than thirty feet in a very 
brief time, the waters are kept in one in- 
cessant whirl, and the utmost care is 
required of Quoddy seamen to save the 
small boats from destruction. 

The most dangerous spot, however, 
lies almost between Todd's Head and the 
point jutting out from the southern ex- 
tremity of the Canadian island of Deer 



Island. On the flood, and more so at 
half flood, it is exceedingly dangerous 
for any craft to approach the British 
shore, since the whirlpools rage furious- 
ly like immense boiling caldrons, and 
many a smuggler and his boat has been 
sucked down into the mad, seething 
vortex. 

It is during a gorgeous Quoddy sunset 
that the tourist catches a finer scene, one 
to rival fair Naples, herself, — on even- 
side a panoramic vista of the sea, mys- 
terious and enhancing, infinite and free. 



The Bouquet 



By THEODOSIA GARRISON. 

I think to-night, should I really try, 

I might slip through the nursery bars 

And make my way to the meadows of sky 
To pick a bouquet of stars. 

The little stars grow as daisies do 

With the same wide, wondering eyes ; 

And little clouds float in the fields of blue 
Like the white-winged butterflies. 

I would pluck them, oh, the livelong night 
Till my arms were full, and then 

Tie them together with moon-beams white 
And carry them home again. 

And mother's friends, when they came to call, 
"What a lovely bouquet," would cry, 

And never once guess they were stars at all 
That grew in the fields of sky. 



The Girl and the Moose and the 
Deep Dark Woods 



By HELEN B. TRASK 



IT was late in October when I re- 
ceived a letter from Dick Craig, my 
favorite cousin, — a big, whole- 
souled, good-natured, go-as-you- 
please chap, whom everybody liked on 
sight and continued to like better and 
better every time they saw him, — asking 
me to meet him the following night at the 
six o'clock train. I was pacing the plat- 
form when the train pulled in, and after 
getting his traps together, which I noticed 
included a Winchester, gray sweater, 
with a big red patch on the back, and 
two suit cases (talk about a woman's bag- 
gage! She can get more trash into a 
shirt waist box than a man can get into 
four suitcases to save his life), we 
started for home. "What are you going 
to do with this ?" I said, pointing to the 
rifle. "Going to get a deer of course" 
responded Dick. Now that was exactly 
what I expected ; I knew he would never 
content himself to "visit" two solid 
weeks, not even though mother gave him 
her "spare" room and a spare rib from 
my own piggy which I meant to sacrifice 
for his sake. "Where are you going?" 
I ventured. "Oh, up the B. & A. some, 
where ; Ralph Fuller intends starting to- 
morrow ; he's in the office with me you 
know ; I told him I'd join him a little 
later." 

Now if there was any one thing in 
this world that I actually wanted to do 
it was to go hunting. Other girls went. 
I was used to long tramps, and when I 
was so small that I had to get Dick to 
steady the rifle for me, I shot a grey 
squirrel off the ridge pole of the barn. 
If only Dick would ask me to go, too! 
But he walked on in joyous anticipation 
of the days in store for him, but not a 
thought of me. Supper over, I deter- 



mined to use all the strategy in my power 
to secure an invitation to accompany 
Dick and his friend on that hunt, but all 
to no avail. I tried to "work" him a 
little by assuring him that the young lady 
who would accompany me was the most 
beautiful girl in the village. But Dick 
was not after girls, not pursuing a "dear" 
unless it had four feet. He told me it 
was no place for a girl, that I could not 
"rough it" along with the boys and 
assured me that on his return he should 
have the full quota of game of all kinds, 
a goodly share of which he should leave 
with my mother and me. 

But I wanted to go. hunting, and go I 
would, though not with Dick. I tele- 
phoned my chum, Edith Eldridge, to 
meet me at the pasture bars, near the big 
rock where we had baked many a mud 
cake in the summer sun, at exactly eight 
that night. She was there at the appoint- 
ed time and our plans were ready for 
execution inside of ten minutes. We 
would go hunting, and on the very same 
train that Dick and his chum were going 
on, too. 1 knew every inch of the road 
to Fort Kent — my destination — and if 
I could get a deer before those fellows 
secured theirs, wouldn't it be the best 
yet! Letting my good mother into my 
little secret she packed my paraphernalia 
into a small satchel. I instructed her to 
put in only the articles that would be 
absolutely necessary, including a heavy 
sweater, cartridge belt and cartridges, 
compass, etc. My rifle, with the satchel, 
comprised my luggage. 

Dick began to get uneasy, and the third 
day after his arrival he announced that 
he was to take the next morning train. 
I waited until he and my small brother 
Bob had gone to the station, then I 

So 



THE GIRL AND THE MOOSE AND THE DEEP DARK WOODS 81 



whistled to Edith. Keeping behind the 
boys, we scooted on to the train unob- 
served by Dick, and prepared to have 
the very ''slickest" time of our lives. We 
watched Dick come aboard and were in 
mortal terror lest he discover us. Once 
he came through the train but we covered 
our faces with a paper which we were 
scanning very earnestly, and he passed 
through and back again without suspect- 
ing our presence. At Milo Junction, 
Dick alighted from the train, shook 
hands very cordially with a dandy look- 
ing chap (I knew it was his friend 
Fuller,) and they entered the train to- 
gether. At Ashland Junction, Edith and 
1 had another fright lest they see us, 
but we managed to avoid them and got 
through to Fort Kent without being seen 
by those greedy sports. They left the 
train atWallagrass, twelve miles below, 
and for the first time since we left home 
we breathed normally, settled back in 
the comfortable B. & A. coach and gave 
proper vent to our hilarity until we 
reached Fort Kent. Next morning, after 
a hearty breakfast at Jorm Mclnerney's 
hospitable board, we struck out for a 
hunt. Following the St. John river for 
about two miles we came to a piece of 
wood, part of which had been cleared. 
The morning was clear and cool, the sun 
gradually climbing, when we sat on a 
log to plan how to get the prizes home. 
Suddenly Edith clutched my arm, her 
eyes brilliant in their expectancy, and 
whispered : "I heard a deer right in back 
there" pointing to a dense thicket just a 
little to our right. "Are you sure?" I 
asked. "Sure as Heaven," she replied. 
Breathless we listened, when a rustle 
among the fallen leaves just back of us 
attracted our attention. I was on my feet 
instantlv with my trusty Winchester in 
position, when out clear in the opening 
stalked a big bull moose. He was not 
more than eighty feet away. I would 
gladly have welcomed the opportunity 
had his majesty been a deer, but a mon- 
ster moose was one too many. He had 
not seen us, of that I was certain, for 
he was browsing quietly when the same 
crackling noise from an opposite direc- 
tion assured us that something moving 
was in still closer proximity than the 



moose. In an instant the report of a 
rifle close to my ear caused me to jump 
and exclaim "Oh, Edith, what made you 
do that?" She had tired at something 
nearer than the moose. Neither of us 
looked in the direction of the shot — 
other thoughts were surging through our 
brains about that time — the moose was 
coming straight for us. "The tree" I 
shouted. I kit no need; she had sprang 
up to the lower limb with the agility of 
a monkey, still clinging to her rifle, while 
I was scrambling to get a footing in a 
big pine close by. We were hardly clear 
of the ground when his lordship, the 
moose, was master of the situation below. 
Had we fully realized our position we 
should have been terrorized but it was 
a case of "Ignorance is bliss." "I got 
him" exclaimed Edith, as she pointed in 
the direction of her shot. "Wait a mo- 
ment and I'll be sure" came next. She 
was preparing to fire again when another 
rifle shot from behind a growth of ever- 
greens and a man's voice "Eve got him 
fast" arrested our attention. That was 
too much for Edith, for the deer was 
hers and she meant to claim her rights 
and prepared to descend and secure her 
prize, when she suddenly recollected the 
presence of her antlered friend at the 
base of her perch. Whatever possessed 
me I shall never be able to tell but I fired 
straight at a point behind the shoulder 
of that moose. I could not have done a 
worse thing; I have read accounts of 
wounded moose but I had never seen one 
until that moment. To say that he was 
enraged but feebly expresses it. While 
we were lamenting our folly and wonder- 
ing if we would have to remain in our 
respective trees all night, perhaps longer, 
the branches parted a little to the right of 
us and a man emerged. I was too scared 
to look at him but I yelled at him to run 
for a tree. He either did not hear me. or 
was too intent on his purpose to take 
advice — I don't know which ; but he 
immediately began to pump lead into that 
wild devil at the base of my temporary 
habitation. I shall never forget that 
moment. To say I was scared "blue" 
literally frightened nearly out of my wits, 
would not express all the truth. It was 
not for myself that I feared, but for the 



82 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



man, on whom I kept one eye, and die 
other on his Majesty, the wounded deni- 
zen of the forest. For several seconds 
(it seemed a lifetime) neither appeared 
to move a hair's breadth, when suddenly 
the man stepped a little to one side — to 
get a better shot of course — and fired 
again. This time the moose dropped but 
came to his feet in an instant and made 
for his assailant who fired again and 
missed him. Edith was white as a sheet, 
her eyes as big as saucers but she still 
clutched her Winchester. It was evident 
that the hunter had used his last car- 
tridge for he dropped his rifle and lit 
for the nearest tree which happened to 
be the one I was in. He reached for the 
lowest branch, missed his footing and 
fell sprawling to the ground. The moose, 
simply infuriated, was not ten feet away. 
The situation was horrible! I did not 
dare to fire from my position, so getting 
a firm grip on my rifle I climbed down 
to the lower limb and jumped to the 
ground. I was within two feet of the 
bull's head when I aimed straight be- 
tween his eyes and pulled the trigger; 
he dropped but came to his feet again. 
The young sportsman was now at my 
side, reaching for my rifle as he shouted 
"Make the tree, for God's sake." But 
that moose was nearly all mine — one 
more shot and he would belong to me. 
I fired again and this time the ball went 
home ; it had entered the kidneys — one 
of the most vital spots, and he fell dead 
in his tracks. I had not breathed for 
fully three minutes. I had not looked at 
my companion when approaching foot- 
steps attracted my attention and I 
turned to look straight into the eyes of 
my cousin Dick. He didn't speak ; he 
just looked and such a look! Edith had 
descended to the ground and after pre- 
senting my cousin Dick introductions 
were in order to Mr. Fuller. Just imag- 
ine the unspeakable astonishment of 
those two game seekers ! They supposed 
(if they gave us a thought, which is 
doubtful) that we were many miles to 
the front reading the latest novel or 
worse yet — making a silk quilt. To see 
us there was just beyond the conception 
of those greedy chaps. Dick appeared a 
little angry at first and muttered some- 



thing that sounded like cuss words. But 
when I pointed to the beautiful specimen 
of moosehood at my feet, I think he 
envied me just a wee bit. 

After we had got ourselves together 
Edith exclaimed: "What's the matter 
with my luck, too ; I've got a deer back 
here in the bushes. "Gee" Dick said, 
"I thought that belonged to me." We all 
hustled over to the spot indicated and 
sure enough there lay as handsome a 
buck as the gamiest sport could wish to 
see, shot through the heart. Now just 
which one could claim that prize, Edith 
or Dick, was a question. But Edith de- 
clared she saw him fall, and of course 
Dick was too gallant to assert his rights 
if he had any, which I doubted. 

Of course the boys congratulated us, 
said we were bricks, etc., but I had a 
sneaking suspicion that the words came 
hard (they had not even shot a wood- 
chuck). It was now nearly noon — a per- 
fect October day. Dick declared he was 
never so hungry in all his life as he led 
the way out of the woods, to just where, 
not one of us knew. As we tramped 
through those peaceful woods with the 
golden leaves for a carpet, the purest of 
ether pouring into our lungs and the 
glorious blue overhead, there was a feel- 
ing of sadness akin to reverence — a 
something deemed divine, that could not 
be found outside the deep, dark woods. 
After tramping an hour or more we came 
upon a sporting camp where we appeased 
our appetites and proceeded to make our- 
selves comfortable before the big, log 
fire. Edith and I had had hunting enough 
for the present and decided to lead a 
little less strenuous life during the rest 
of our stay and give the boys an oppor- 
tunity to compete with us if they could, 
which of course we doubted. After they 
got our game to the station, they hustled 
off for the day to get their share, assur- 
ing us that they should have got their 
full quota the previous day if it hadn't 
been for us. We wished them luck as 
they left us, but right down deep in our 
hearts we hoped they would have to work 
for their success, for had not we worked 
for ours? They were away two days 
when they returned, each with a deer, 
but as we got ours first we were not en- 



THE GIRL AND THE MOOSE AND THE DEED DARK WOODS 83 



VIOUS. 

Desiring to see a little more of the 
country we proceeded to retrace our way 
to Brownville, where we connected with 
the Bangor & Aroostook branch to Kat- 
ahdin Iron Works, one of the finest deer 
and moose sections in Maine. We had 
heard much of the famous Huston Pond 
Camps and boarding a buckboard which 
we found waiting at the station we drove 
three and one-half miles through the 
forest to "J oe ' s " camps. Talk about 
cheerful spots and genuine hospitality! 
There was absolutely nothing lacking to 
make this spot ideal. Every good thing 
was at Joe's command, and there was 
nothing too good for his guests. Edith 
and Dick, not seemingly anxious for 
other company than their own, climbed 
some of the neighboring mountains, while 
Mr. Fuller and I, not being invited to 
accompany them, listened to spicy tales 
of hair-breadth escapes, which we were 
expected to believe, from the lips of two 
old guides who toasted their shins by the 
big open fire. 

The days were passing and fast ap- 
proaching the time when Dick and his 
friend, Fuller, must return to New York 
and we turned our thoughts towards 



home. How sorry we were to leave those 
"happy hunting grounds \" And it was 
only after promising "Joe" and his 
charming little wife that we would come 
next year that we got away at last. 

My mother and Bob gave us a hearty 
welcome the night we arrived home and 
we talked of our trip into the "wee sma' 
hours." The next night found us at the 
station saying good bye and I venture to 
assert that two prouder sportsmen never 
boarded a train for the metropolis than 
Dick Craig and Ralph Fuller. 

While we were waiting for the train 
Dick casually remarked that my moose- 
head was just what he wanted for his 
"den" when he got married. I met the 
suggestion with frank approval and a 
stipulation to the effect that the moose 
would be his if that happy event material- 
ized within a year, whereupon Edith, and 
I was rather expecting it, looked very 
conscious and admitted that congratula- 
tions would be accepted there and then. 

"Aboard" came the stentorian voice of 
the conductor. The train was moving 
when another voice whispered something 
to me low and sweet to which I answered 
— but that's telling. Ralph barely caught 
the train. 



Because of Your Dear Faith 



By MARION FRANCIS BROWN 

Because of your dear faith, when days are lonj 

And all the starless hours of the night 

Pass like the lingering echoes of a song 

Into the silence of the new dawn's light, 

I shall be able with a smile to greet 

The sadness that Life holds and call it sweet. 



Because of your dear faith, I shall not mind 
The long, drear years that hold our souls apart ; 
But putting all grief's vestiges behind, 
I'll face the future with a brave, strong heart. 
Filled with the crowning hope, which Love assures 
To prove my worth in God's sight and in Yours. 




STERN AND ROCK-BOUND COAST 



The Granites of New England 



By ELLIOTT MITCHELL 
Of the United States Geographical Survey 



OF the sculptured monuments and 
great graven edifices which if 
other records should be destroy- 
ed, might serve to enlighten 
future races of man on the civilization of 
this age and country those of granite will 
be the most enduring. To New England 
most of this imperishable material will 
be credited, the famous Quincy, Barre, 
Hallowell, Milford, Westerley and other 
granites being represented by numberless 
statues, carved monuments and massive 
buildings in all' parts of the United 
States. 

While the granites are by no means 
the oldest rocks, geologically, they fur- 
nish by far the hardest and most endur- 
ing construction-stone, varying greatly 
84 



however in themselves. Some granites 
will crush under a pressure of 15,000 
pounds to the square inch ; others will 
stand 43,000 pounds pressure. There 
appears to have been some question as to 
whether the granites of the Atlantic 
coast were forced upward into their 
present positions in the old Silurian 
days, when most of the United States 
was a sea and when the crests of the 
Rocky Mountains were represented by 
shallows in the early ocean, or whether 
they were of much later origin. There 
was nobody here at the time and the 
opinions of the geologists of today and 
yesterday in interpreting Nature's per- 
formances of about three million years 
ago do riot entirely coincide. 



THE GRANITES OF NEW ENGLAND 



85 



STRAIGHT FROM VULCAN'S 
FORGE 

But it is now generally agreed that the 
granites are of plutonic origin, resulting 
from the cooling of molten rock matter 
coming from the very womb of Nature 
— the magma out of the bowels of the 
earth. This magma, previous to erup- 
tion existed as a mass of rock-forming 
material, in a state of fusion, heavily 
charged with gases. Being confined, it 
was under terrific pressure. Forced up- 
ward this pressure through and among 
the older rocks, it was changed from a 
fused and liquid state into one of plas- 



( Geological Survey and the bulletins may 
be obtained covering in detail all the 
granitic areas and quarries in Maine, 
New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachu- 
setts, and Rhode Island. 

The belief of their author, Professor 
Dale, is that at the time of the formation 
of the granite, New England was 
covered with high mountains, several 
thousand feet above the land of today. 

This great cap of overlying rock mass 
furnished a large part of the pressure 
required to form the granite. It has 
since been removed by erosion so that 
the granite is now exposed in many 
places. Some conception of the age of 




Sections of two kinds of Maine granite, showing wide difference in grain 



ticity, finally solidifying, and in some in- 
stances combining with these rocks. 

The result is that over much of New 
England's area there is a fine collection 
of granite deposits, suitable for all 
economic purposes ranging from statue 
carving to road building. The colors are 
many — black, white, red, green, pink, 
yellow, and purple. These useful and 
beautiful rocks found in all the New 
England States have been the subject of 
a special study by the United States 



these rocks may be gathered from the 
statement of the Geological Survey that 
the present rate of erosion in New Eng- 
land is less than one inch in one hundred 
years. A remnant of this capping can 
be seen at the Waldoboro quarry in 
Maine and at other points. It was due 
also to this great cap, which prevented 
the rapid cooling of the magma that the 
granite was formed. Had the molten 
mass been forced to the surface and ex- 
posed it would have cooled so quickly 



86 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



that the slow process of crystallization 
would have been arrested by the sudden 
passage of the material into the solid 
state and a dense glass similar to the 
obsidian cliffs in the Yellowstone Park 
would have resulted. This molten mass, 
however, forced upward under great 
pressure against a capping of enormous 
weight cooled and solidified slowly 
enough to permit complete crystallization 
of the liquid or plastic, glass-like matter, 
allowing the constituent molecules to ar- 
range themselves in the orderly manner 



The granites have an average specific 
gravity of 2.66, — they are 2.66 times the 
weight of an equal bulk of water. A 
cubic foot of granite will weigh about 
165 pounds. A coat made of granite 
while perhaps not the most comfortable 
— although granite in thin sheets is 
flexible — might be thought to be storm 
proof ; yet granite will absorb consider- 
able amounts of moisture, and if a cubic 
yard of granite were completely dried 
out, it would upon being placed in pure 
water for a short time take up over four 




Polished sphere of Quincy granite, Quincy, Mass. 



which the microscope reveals in granite. 

GREAT HEAT TO PRODUCE 
GRANITE 

What the heat of this liquid flow must 
have been is not known. There must 
have been hot times in those early days 
for it takes from 2000 to 2500 degrees 
Fahrenheit to melt the various kinds of 
granites. 



gallons of it. 

FEARFULLY AND WONDER- 
FULLY MADE 

The description of the New England 
granites holds the reader under a certain 
sort of tense strain and provokes an irre- 
pressible desire to visit these wonderful 
quarries. For instance at the Merry 
Mount quarry of the Quincy group there 



THE GRANITES OF NEW ENGLAND 



87 



is described a dike of garnetiferous 
biotite lamprophyre. At the Dell Hitch- 
cock quarry the segregations are noted as 
of three kinds, one is of fine grained 
aplitic, with matrix of potash feldspar, 
— albite to oligoclasealbite — with par- 
ticles containing porphyritic crystals of 
aegirite, with some riebeckite. Zircon, 
magnetite arilonenite and abundant 
apatite occur as accessories — also crys- 
tals of titanite with secondary limonite 
and carbonate. One knot has secondary 



aegirite as one of its original constituents 
and riebeckite as another. The granite- 
after acquiring — some few million years 
ago — its sheet and joint structure was 
subjected to metamorphism, probably 
that which accompanied the post-car- 
boniferous crustal movement. The 
hematite-spotted granite, the pink granite 
and the greenish-brown granite while 
evidently due to the alteration of the 
aegirite particles to magnetite hematite, 
green hornblende, biotite and chrorite, 




Working huge monolith columns for the Cathedral of St. John, New York 



orange fibrous hornblende growing on 
aegirite. Zircon and fluorite are acces- 
sory. Some muddy greenish knots con- 
sist of orthoclose minutely intergrown 
with soda-lime feldspar in twins. The 
alteration of a certain arkose, etc., into 
schists consisting largely of glaucophane 
— closely related to reibeckite — is ex- 
plained as due to a process of recrystal- 
lization. 

Again it is convincingly stated that the 
reibeckite-aegirite granite of Quincy had 



owe these mineral changes to processes 
of deep seated alteration and partly to 
regional metamorphism — this is ■ of 
course obvious to the most casual reader 
— and the pea-green variety is due to 
deep seated epidotization of its feldspar, 
which may have involved access to cal- 
careous and ferruginous waters. As op- 
posed to this light fictional style of 
description the New England quarry- 
man applies to the various granites and 
associated formations such scientific 



88 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




MlLFORD GRANITE MONOLITHS, U. S. TREASURY BUILDING 



terms as salt horse, crocus, toe-nails, 
black horse, shakes, sap, and white horse. 

THE GRANITES WIDELY 
DIFFERENT 

In the choice of a granite for any con- 
structional purpose there is need for a 
careful consideration of its various 
adaptabilities. The different types vary 
greatly in texture, color, and effective- 
ness. The coarse grained ones are best 
adapted to massive structures while the 
fine textured ones lend themselves well 
to monuments and statues. Then there 
is large room for the exercise of artistic 
taste in deciding which colors and shade 



will best harmonize or contrast with one 
another or with other stones. There is 
also opportunity for study in the matter 
of finish in polished, hammered or rough 
surfaces and in some of the varieties 
remarkable contrasts can be secured in 
this respect. The polished surface is 
always darkest and the hammered the 
lightest. The writer discovered that in 
the selection of a comparatively simple 
granite head-stone with graven inscrip- 
tion there was a wide range in choice and 
an opportunity for many combinations. 
Thus a stone may be a coarse, even- 
grained, warm-gray granite, with white 
feldspar, clear quartz, and both black 



THE GRANITES OF NEW ENGLAND 



89 




Statue of Hallowell, Maine, granite, 
Hall of Records, New York 



and white micas. The black and the 
dark green granites are perhaps the most 
striking. Very remarkable contrasts are 
obtained in the black granites between 
their hammered and polished surfaces. 
The cause of this is that the impact of 
the hammer breaks up the immediate 
surface, so that the light falling upon it 
is reflected, instead of absorbed, and the 
resultant effect upon the eye is that of 
whiteness. The darker color of a pol- 
ished surface is due merely to the fact 
that, through careful grinding, all these 
irregularities and reflecting surfaces are 



removed, more of the light striking the 
stone is absorbed, and the effect upon the 
eye is that of a more or less complete 
absence of light. Prices of granites vary 
greatly, ranging for constructional stone 
from 25 cents to $3.25 per cubic foot (at 
the quarries and in the rough), for the 
fine monumental and statuary granites. 

IMMORTALIZING THE NATION'S 
HISTORY 

Through her granites New England is 
widely represented. Windsor, Vermont, 
granite can be seen in 16 great polished 



90 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Statue of Robert Burns, Barre, Vermont 



monoliths in the Columbia University 
Library, New York, and 34 large col- 
umns in the Hank of Montreal. Barre, 
Vermont, granite forms the Governor 
Curtin monument at Bellefonte, Penn- 
sylvania; the Hearn monument at Wood- 
lawn, New York, with a 53 foot mono- 
lithic spire; the Hancock Memorial at 
San Francisco; the General Thomas 
shaft at Springfield, Ohio, the Hotel 
Pontchartrain at Detroit, a monument 
to General Gomez in Cuba; the Capitol 
buildings of Vermont, Pennsylvania, and 



Wisconsin ; the great Union Station and 
National Museum buildings at Washing- 
ton ; and the sarcophagi for President 
and Mrs. McKinley at Canton, Ohio. 
The Milford, Massachusetts, granite is 
seen in the Boston Public Library and 
the McKinley Monument at Toledo. The 
Quincy, Massachusetts, granite is repres- 
ented in the Jefferson Monument at 
Louisville, the Masonic Building in 
Philadelphia, the New Orleans Customs 
House, the Bunker Hill Monument, and 
a 23 foot polished monument to the late 



THE GRANITES OE NEW ENGLAND 



91 



William C. Whitney, former Secretary 
of the Navy, in New York. The Rock- 
port, Massachusetts, granite is used in 
the Boston and Baltimore Post Offices. 
The Concord, New Hampshire, granite 
is used in the Monaghan Monument at 
Spokane, Washington, the New Hamp- 
shire Soldiers' Monument at Vicksburg, 
Mississippi, and the McKinley Memorial 
in Chicago. The Milford, New Hamp- 
shire, granite is seen in the impressive 
colonnade, consisting of thirty 39-foot 
columns which have just been set on the 
east front of the United States Treasury 
Building at Washington, replacing the 
original sandstone pillars which were 
crumbling with age and strain. The ad- 
ditional 36 great columns on the other 
sides of the building came from the Fox 
Island quarries in Maine as did also the 
110 pilasters of one-piece slabs 39 feet in 
height. These Maine and the New 



J iampshire granites match exactly. The 
famous Westerley granite of Rhode- 
Island and Connecticut may be seen in 
Gettysburg and Antietam battlefield 
monuments, in the Jay Gould mausoleum, 
New York, the J. G. Fair mausoleum, 
San Francisco, the sarcophagus monu- 
ment to Senator Sherman, Mansfield, 
Ohio, the obelisk to General Lew Wal- 
lace, Crawfordsville, Indiana, and the 
Rhode Island monument, Andersonville, 
Georgia. The Freeport, Maine, granite is 
found in the Flumbolt monument, Chicago, 
and the Scott monument, Pittsburg. The 
Franklin (Jay) county, Maine, granites 
are found in General Grant's tomb, New 
York, and in the Hahneman monument, 
Washington, D. C. The Mount Desert, 
Maine, granite was used in building the 
United States Mint at Philadelphia, and 
the New Long Bridge over the Potomac 
at Washington. The Hallowell, Maine, 




Carved eagle of coarse Vermont white granite 



92 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



granite is used in the General Slocum 
monument, Gettysburg, and the New 
York State monument at Lookout Moun- 
tain. Fox Island, Maine, granites are in 
New Post Office, Washington, D. C., the 
Manhattan Bank, New York, the New 
York Customs House, and 8 great col- 
umns, 5iy 2 to 54 feet, by 6 feet in dia- 
meter for the Cathedral of St. John the 
Divine in New York. The Calais, Maine, 
granite is used in the American Museum 
of National History, New York, in the 
General Grant monument, Galena, 
Illinois. The Biddeford, Maine, granites 
are also used in the great piers of the 
Manhattan and the Blackwell Island 
Bridges, New York, the New York 
Stock Exchange, the new Wanamaker 
store, Philadelphia, and the Standard Oil 
Building, New York. 

The total granite output of the country 
last year was valued at $18,420,080, and 
of this New England alone produced 
$8,522,810. Of the higher grade granites 
her States produced the bulk. Thus in 
dressed monumental stone New England 
produced $1,267,031, against $1,057,411 
for the rest of the United States ; in un- 
dressed monumental, $1,801,961 against 
S424.658 for the other States ; in dressed 
building stone $2,997,335 against $1,374,- 
817 for other States; in undressed build- 
ing stone $684,988 against $694,118 for 
other States. Much of the finishing of 
this rough monumental and building 
stone was also done in New England. 
Of a total production of $2,420,555 for 
paving blocks $780,577 was also realized 
from New England quarries. The fol- 
lowing table shows this production in 
New England by States in 1908: 




Highly decorated panel of Hallo- 
well GRANITE 



Connecticut . 
Maine 


Dressed 

Monumental 

• $ 5 8 > 6 72 
iii,774 


Rough 

Monumental 

$ 23,218 

63,799 

358,830 

"1,253 

149,638 

1,095,223 


Dressed 
Building 

** 117,242 

1,055,989 

720,796 

255,628 

71,613 

676,067 


Rough 
Building 

$ 33^33 
293*37 1 
1 80,063 

92,738 
79,7n 


Paving 
Blocks 

$ 14,951 
368,715 


Massachusetts . 
New Hampshire 
Rhode Island 
Vermont 


. 115,186 
• '36,772 
. 262,376 
. 582,051 


261,880 

I03-833 
29,651 

1-547 




$1,267,013 


$1,801,961 


#2,997,335 


$ 684,988 


$ 780,577 



The granite industry in the New Eng- 
land States has had a healthy growth, 
and has long been an important industry. 
The following figures show the general 



increase by States since 1880, interme- 
diate years, however, showing consider- 
able fluctuations : 



THE GRANITES OF NEW ENGLAND 



93 



PRODUCTION OF GRANITE IN NEW 
ENGLAND STATES: 

1880 1900 1908 

Connecticut $407,225 $507,754 $592,904 

Maine 1,175,2861,568,5732,027,508 

Massachusetts . . . 1,329,315 1,698,605 2,027,463 

New Hampshire. 303,066 874,646 867,028 

Rhode Island . . . 623,066 444,3 16 556,474 

Vermont 59,6751,113,7882,451,933 



The industry in Vermont has made the 
greatest growth. The year of greatest 
production for Maine was 1905 with a 
value of $2,713,795 ; the banner year for 
Massachusetts was 1902 with $3,451,397; 
for New Hampshire, also 1902, with 
$1,147,097; for Connecticut, 1891 with 
$1,167,000; for Rhode Island 1895 with 
$968,473, and for Vermont, 1906 with a 
value of output amounting to $2,934,825. 



The Old Stone Fence 



By IRENE ELIOTT BENSON 



A homely country fence I knew r , 
('Tis now replaced by hedges), 
Where crimson berries thickly grew 
Bejeweling its edges. 
It circled fields 
Of clover sweet — 
Of graceful growing 
Yellow wheat. 



It leaves the woods to closely guard 

An apple orchard growing, 

And follow 'round a fragrant yard 

With brilliant flowers glowing, 

Where yellow 

Butterflies and bees 

Alight awhile 

To rest at ease. 



My mind beholds it as it turns 

Around the road, and crosses 

A patch of woods all thick with ferns, 

And velvety with mosses. 

Where naught disturbs 

This shady nook, 

Save calling birds 

And gurgling brook. 



This fence, where hidden 'neath its stones 

Lay little notes love-laden, 

By night became a trysting place 

For happy youth and maiden. 

While, bathed in 

Moonlight from above, 

It listened to 

Their vows of love. 



I see it wrapped in ice and snow, 

A-sparkling with glitter, 

And birds upon it in a row — 

I hear them chirp and twitter. 

Ah ! memory kind, 

In years long hence 

Bring to my mind 

That old stone fence. 



J& J& J& 



The Tariff as an Issue 



By ALBERT CLARKE 



IT may as well be admitted in the 
beginning that Republicans are not 
in harmony on the tariff. This is 
due in part to conflicting interests 
but chiefly to lack of knowledge of the 
protective philosophy. 

Conflicting interests which do not 
antagonize protection itself may be har- 
monized, as for example, the two 
branches of the wool manufacture. But 
when a manufacturer demands protec- 
tion on his product and opposes pro- 
tection on the products which enter into 
it he antagonizes the protective principle 
and renders harmony impossible. 

Twenty years ago the doctrine of free 
raw materials was thoroughly threshed 
out in New England ; all the great lead- 
ers of the Republican party took strong 
ground against it and it was beaten to a 
frazzle. Gradually, however, it has 
made converts of some of our public 
men, chiefly in districts where there are 
certain industries, and it has made the 
captains of those industries indifferent 
to protection if not wholly opposed to it. 

The Republican party cannot be incon- 
sistent on this question. The producers 
of what is ordinarily called raw material 
outnumber the consumers in the propor- 
tion of about ten to seven. They must 
have protection or they will not favor 
protection, and if it is right for one it 
is right for the other. 

Many Republicans, especially young 
men, and particularly those who have 
been taught free trade in college, have 
in recent years taken to thinking that 
while protection if reasonable is all right, 
yet our Republican tariffs have been al- 
together too high. This has almost be- 
come a public conviction, not only with- 
out evidence, but against evidence. In 
my opinion it endangers protection and 
tends to divide the Republican party 
94 



more than heresy of free raw materials, 
more, in fact, than all things else com- 
bined. 

In the June number of McClure's 
Magazine, Mr. George Kibbee Turner 
reports, obviously with authority, an in- 
terview with President Taft, in which 
the President relates his efforts to get 
Congress to reduce the tariff, so as to 
fulfill the promise of the Republican 
platform as he understood it, and further 
on, when advocating the continued em- 
ployment of the Tariff Board, he said 
that to carry out this promise "just one 
thing is necessary : that is, evidence — an 
accurate knowledge of the cost of pro- 
duction of protected articles here and 
abroad." In his Winona speech and 
other utterances he asserted the general 
success of his efforts and specified the 
great number of reductions and the com- 
paratively few increases, and claimed 
that the result is the best protective 
tariff ever enacted. This certainly ought 
to be highly satisfactory to reductionists, 
but it does not seem to be. 

Now let us be frank with each other. 
Why should Republicans assume all the 
while that reduction was or is the one 
thing needful? 

Unmistakably that was the Democratic 
demand, but must Republicans win vic- 
tories by taking Democratic ground ? 

The convention which nominated Mr. 
Taft would not have promised revision 
if they had thought it meant that all 
changes should be reductions. 

Those men and most other Republi- 
cans agree with President Taft that re- 
vision ought to be based on evidence, and 
at that time no evidence had been taken. 

The main trouble that has come to the 
Republican party has been too much list- 
ening to Democratic clamor, too much 
inclination to make concessions, too easy 



THE TARIFF AS AN ISSUF 



95 



admissions of the untruths of interests 
that are hostile to protection. Now I 
hear a shout that this is the natural con- 
clusion of a standpatter. Hut Republi- 
cans had ceased to be standpatters when 
they agreed upon a platform promising 
revision. 

We had opposed revision up to that 
time because it was inopportune ; we 
then favored it, to take place after the 
Presidential election. Why? Because it 
is desirable to revise or at least to review 
all laws after considerable intervals so 
as to keep them up to date, because the 
Republicans were likely to be in power 
and would keep the tariff protective ; be- 
cause we knew a few respects in which 
improvements could be made ; and be- 
cause the demand had become so general 
that the public was evidenly prepared for 
revision. Now that it has taken place, and 
nearly to the satisfaction of revisionists 
who are protectionists, why try to please 
those who are not protectionists and 
keep the country stirred up? 

There are Republicans — not a few of 
them newspaper men — who have been 
misled into the belief that protection 
is a favor to special interests, and they 
seem blissfully unconscious of the fact 
that other special interests have misled 
them. Producers of goods in this coun- 
try and their employes do not claim to be 
disinterested ; but their interests are not 
special, for the great masses of our peo- 
ple are producers. The comparatively 
few importers, however, have the most 
special of all special interests, and if 
they were not the largest patrons of the 
newspapers it is hardly probable that so 
much prejudice would have been created 
against the protection of domestic in- 
dustries. 

It is easy to see, for example, why 
Marshall Field Company, the largest im- 
porting house in this country, which 
manufactures gloves and hosiery in 
France and Germany, opposed the in- 
crease in the duties on those articles and 
got most of the department stores in all 
our cities to join them, and frightened 
two hundred thousand club women to 
sign remonstrances against the proposed 
increase. But this is a special interest 
of which the press has not complained, 



although its unpatriotic character is so 
glaringly apparent. 

Another special interest from the 
newspaper point of view is the pulp and 
paper industry ; but from a disinterested 
point of view the newspapers and mag- 
azines, as the principal consumers of 
paper, are a special interest, and this was 
never more apparent than when a few 
publishers in the cities of New York and 
Chicago obtained control of the Ameri- 
can Newspaper Publishers' Association 
and waged a concerted and bitter war- 
fare against the pulp and paper makers 
and in favor of foreign producers, not- 
withstanding the fact that the price 
of newspaper has been reduced from 
around thirteen cents a pound twenty- 
five years ago to around two cents a 
pound now, as a result of the develop- 
ment under protection of the industry 
in this country. 

The leaders in the movement for free 
pulp and lower duties on paper are most- 
ly Democrats and free traders, and yet 
hundreds of Republican editors suffered 
them and aided them to conduct an agi- 
tation in the name of reform which has 
been misleading, disturbing to industry, 
inconsistent with the Republican policy 
of protection, and calculated to weaken 
and divide the party. 

It is time to stop talking about special 
interests and to recognize and proclaim 
the fact that protection is a national 
policy and is for every interest that is 
exposed to foreign competition. The 
late Edward Atkinson put forth some 
figures ten or twelve years ago by which 
he sought to prove that the people em- 
ployed in the protected industries num- 
ber only about nine per cent of our popu- 
lation, and he claimed that all the rest 
of the people are taxed to maintain 
them. He made that point in a public 
debate with me and my reply was that 
the tall buildings in a city constitute even 
less than nine per cent of the whole 
number, but they would be conspicuous 
targets for a hostile fleet which might 
enter the harbor, and if they were bom- 
barded, how much business would be 
done in the rest of the city? 

Free traders never seem able to rec- 
ognize that protection is applied only 



96 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



where it is needed — that is, to goods that 
are exposed to foreign competition; in 
other words, that it is a dike to protect 
the land from overflow. And in build- 
ing sea walls men build them a little 
higher than is necessary to guard against 
ordinary tides. Otherwise Holland 
would not exist and Galveston would 
have been washed away. 

Foreign conditions occasionally make 
the dumping of goods upon some other 
country necessary or expedient, but such 
dumping is demoralizing to industry in 
the country of import. So, too, it has 
often been the policy of an exporting 
country to break down, if possible, the 
industries of some other country by ex- 
porting to it at cut prices. And it is 
now the practice of France and Ger- 
many, which have state owned railroads, 
to fix rates on goods for export only 
one-half as high as on goods for home 
consumption, which is equivalent to the 
payment of a bounty by those countries 
on the sending of goods to compete in 
this country. When such things are done, 
protective duties need to be higher than 
is necessary merely to offset the differ- 
ence in the cost of production. 

Therefore, if we favor protection we 
should favor duties that will protect. If 
they should prove to be a little highe 1 ' 
than they need to be in some conditions 
of trade they will do no harm, because 
they cannot for any length of time be 
added to the price of the goods, owing 
to domestic competition. To be sure, it 
is often said that there is no domestic 
competition in many lines ; but this is 
an error ; our biggest trusts are sub- 
jected to severe competition ; and if any 
industry becomes very profitable, mil- 
lions of capital are sure to rush into it. 

There are now so many protectionists 
in the Democratic party, especially in the 
South, that we are not likely to have to 
fight another battle against free trade 
eo nomine. The platform may not call 
it even revenue tariff, because that has 
been proved to be free trade under 
another name. The demand is more 
likely to be for low tariff. That will 
hold all the protection Democrats, draw 



the free trade Republicans, and be a 
sweet morsel to those reasonable, moder- 
ate, reform Republicans who know more 
about the subject than all the statesmen 
and business men who have studied it. 
The menace to the Republican party, 
therefore, is not from without but from 
within. 

There is no way of averting this dan- 
ger but to stand up boldly for our prin- 
ciples and to use plain language. Tariff 
reformers and half-hearted protectionists 
should not be allowed to write our plat- 
forms. Ever since the Civil War protec- 
tion and sound money have been our 
winning issues. They need no apologies. 
They are as defensible as the flag. They 
appeal to both interest and public spirit. 
They have the strongest possible backing 
of both philosophy and fact. Every time 
they have been abandoned or trifled with, 
trouble has followed. 

Oh, but the world moves, say the men 
who have had the effrontery to assume 
unto themselves and try to monopolize 
the adjective "progressive." To be sure 
it does, but in whatever other department 
of the world's work have science and ex- 
perience and contact with the real thing 
been at a discount? What man born 
yesterday can discuss the tariff with 
Payne, Aldrich or Lodge? What rural 
genius who can sling phrases under- 
stands the course of commerce like the 
bronzed veterans of the seas? What 
athlete of thirty has ventured to walk 
with Weston? 

Nothing ever suits a cult or a new ism 
like a phraseology. The men who are 
trying to lead the Republican party away 
from its history and its enactments take 
delight in misapplying the word "re- 
actionary." Is it reaction to glory in 
achievement? Is a man a "reactionary" 
who goes on from conquering to conquer 
rather than to divide and be conquered? 
In what else could reaction be so mani- 
fest as in going back towards a trade 
policy that has never failed to be dis- 
astrous when applied in this country and 
has been discarded by nearly every en- 
lightened and progressive country on 
earth. 



Historic Happenings on Boston 
Common 

III.— AN EARLY AVIATION MEET 



By MARION FLORENCE LANSING 



ALL New Englanders know that 
"'The Boston Transcript" is not 
easily given over to wild en- 
thusiasms. When, therefore, 
its staid and conservative management 
puts out an issue with "Balloon Edition," 
printed in its biggest type, it is a sign that 
Boston is in a state of great excitement, 
even though the paper be only the little 
four-page sheet of seventy-five years ago 
with its diminutive lettering and prim 
three-inch-wide columns. Boston went 
as mad over its first "aerial excursions" 
in 1834 as all the world is going today 
over aeroplanes and gilders and dirig- 
ibles ; and in so doing she was only fall- 
ing into line with France and England, 
where the first balloons had so recently 
set everyone to speculating whether fly- 
ing was not already an assured means of 
locomotion, and even whether freight 
could not be pulled along on the ground 
by means of a contrivance above that 
would catch the wind. The projects of 
aerial flight were received, moreover, 
with the fresh open-eyed wonder of a 
people to whom railroads were still a 
hazardous experiment, the balloon's rate 
of speed of a mile a minute was un- 
dreamed of swiftness, and schooners 
and stage-coaches were the familiar 
modes of travel. 

Americans had heard of the marvels 
of aerial navigation. Benjamin Franklin 
had seen to that, for he was Minister to 
the Court of France in the year when the 
Montgolfier brothers, sitting in their 
little French cottage, had watched smoke 
curling up the chimney and had asked 
each other the epoch-making question, 
"Why shouldn't smoke be made to raise 



bodies in the air?" The man who many 
years before, going out to fly a kite in a 
thunder-storm, had discovered elec- 
tricity, was not slow to investigate and 
report the successive stages of balloon- 
making from the tiny paper bag which 
caught the smoke from the fire and flew 
to the ceiling to the three-hundred-pound 
structure inflated with hydrogen gas 
which in 1783 carried a man a mile up 
into the air. The news of this "first 
aerial voyage by man" had come to Bos- 
ton, and one of the half-dozen French- 
men who in the next fifty years journey- 
ed with their inventions to the United 
States, had made a flight from the city. 
But it was not until 1834 that an Ameri- 
can aeronaut came with the balloon 
which he had himself made in New 
York, and gave a demonstration of flying 
from the foot of Boston Common. 

In the July newspapers of that year 
appears an advertisement, headed by a 
tiny picture of a balloon, stating that 
Mr. Durant would make a balloon ascen- 
sion — the tenth he had yet made — from 
a large amphitheatre which he was hav- 
ing enclosed on the Charles Street side 
of the Common. It gave particulars in 
regard to the event which show that the 
aeronaut had the dramatic sense of the 
advertiser as well as the skill of the in- 
ventor. Is it not President Eliot who 
has said that one travels farther to see 
less at a boat-race than on any other oc- 
casion of which he knows? The same 
was likely to be true of a balloon flight. 
Why was it worth while to pay for a seat 
in the amphitheatre when one could 
stand on the Common one hundred feet 
away and see all but the actual start 

97 



98 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




John Wise 



from the ground? So the people had 
reasoned when M. Guille, the French 
balloonist, had made the first ascent 
from Boston in 1821. Only six hundred 
ticket-holders had contributed towards 
the expenses of the "amiable aeronaut," 
while thirty thousand people had had the 
benefit of his performance. 

It took three hours to manufacture the 
five thousand cubic feet of hydrogen 
gas needed to fill the huge balloon, — a 
most tedious process for the onlooker, 



one would say. But Mr. Durant planned 
to make this appear one of the most in- 
teresting features of his program. His 
schedule of events reminds us of the 
"one to make ready, two to prepare" of 
our childhood. At half-past two o'clock 
on the appointed day the gates of the 
amphitheatre were to be thrown open to 
the public, which would be announced 
by a discharge of cannon. Half an hour 
later a second discharge would indicate 
that Mr. Durant would begin to inflate 



HISTORIC HAPPENINGS ON BOSTON COMMON 



99 



his balloon. During the succeeding hour 
and a half a pioneer balloon would be set 
off to ascertain the direction of the wind 
and indicate the course of the passenger 
balloon. At half-past four Mr. Durant 
would commence to attach the cords to 
the ''tastefully decorated gondola" which 
served as a car. At five he would take 
his place, and "after floating a few mo- 
ments near the spectators the aerostat, 
with her pilot waving the Star-Spangled 
Banner, would, amidst the sounds of 
cannon and music, commence her aerial 
voyage." It was a program which 
roused Boston to the highest pitch of 
enthusiasm and crowded the amphi- 
theatre to overflowing. 

The thirty-first of July dawned clear 
and cool in spite of gloomy prophecies 
that the thermometer would probably 
take that occasion to register 94 or 95 
degrees. By noon the crowds had begun 
to assemble,' and by early afternoon every 
seat and every inch of standing room in 
the enclosure was filled, and the forty- 
five acres of the Common were literally 
crowded with spectators. It was es- 
timated that it was the largest crowd that 
had ever gathered in Boston — not less 
than 80,000 people within the circum- 
ference of a mile. 

An English traveller, who improved 
the opportunity to study Americans in 
their holiday mood by standing on an 
elevation near one of the malls of the 
Common has left us his impressions. 
He says that he never saw a population 
whose general appearane would endure 
so close a scrutiny as well, and com- 
ments especially on the women as being 
remarkably well-dressed, a reflection of 
the general prosperity of all classes 
which was constantly astonishing him in 
this democratic land. When this gentle- 
man entered the amphitheatre he found 
the balloon nearly inflated. It was held 
down to earth only by the efforts of a 
number of volunteer assistants who 
clung to the netting which covered it, 
while from huge casks in which iron 
turnings and sulphuric acid were being 
chemically combined, the last discharges 
of hydrogen gas were being injected 
through a line of hose. Mr. Durant was 
meanwhile muzzling a rabbit and fasten- 




Mr. Durant's Balloon 

ing it in a small wicker basket which 
with a parachute he intended to drop 
during his flight. It was announced that 
the rabbit would surely come to earth 
unhurt, and the hope was expressed that 
the person who found it would return it 
as soon as possible to Mr. Durant at the 
Tremont House. The rabbit, however, 
never made the dangerous trip, as 
an accidental escape of gas at the mo- 
ment of starting made it necessary to 
drop off all extra cargo. Swiftly the 
aeronaut loosed his machine, and with 
a farewell circling about the amphi- 
theatre sailed away to the eastward, 
scattering as he departed sheets of paper 
which fell like leaves upon the people 
standing without on the Common, and 
which proved to be copies of a printed 
effusion, variously characterized by the 
newspapers of the day as "a touching 
farewell" and "miserable doggerel," of 
which we quote the two opening stanzas. 

"TERRA VALE: FAREWELL EARTH. 
"Terra Vale : Farewell Earth. 
Good-bye ! — Ye denizens of earth, good-bye ! 
I go to visit the clear upper sky — 
To hold communion with the fleecy cloud, 
And penetrate beyond its misty shroud. 



100 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Farewell : for a brief space, farewell : 
There is an impulse bids me break the spell 
That binds us to our dusty clod — and soar 
Up to a purer atmosphere once more." 

In a few moments the balloon had 
passed over the harbor out of sight. It 
had been announced that should Mr. 
Durant alight in the harbor or bay, a 
blue flag would be displayed on the staff 
of Central Wharf ; should he descend on 
land, a white flag would be shown. And 
Mr. Durant had admitted the possibility 
of disaster by promising himself a liberal 
reward to the persons who should first 
come to his assistance if he fell into the 
bay. 

Hour after hour the anxious throngs 
watched the flag-staff for the pennant 
which should give them news ; but dark- 
ness shut it from their view, and still no 
word had come from the aeronaut. The 
people refused to disperse to their homes 
and crowded the wharves and the streets 
about his hotel, waiting for some word. 
At last report came from an incoming 
vessel that the" balloon had been seen to 
alight in the ocean some miles off 
Nahant, where it sank in sight of several 
schooners taking its pilot with it. In 
another hour news was brought that a 



Portland steamer had picked it up, and 
this was all any one knew until the next 
morning at nine o'clock, Mr. Durant 
himself walked into the Tremont House, 
where a company of anxious friends sat 
arguing over his probable fate, and re- 
ported himself none the worse for his 
wetting, although he had been for a time 
in great danger, and his machine was 
considerably damaged. 

From this time on balloon ascensions 
took place in Boston at rare intervals, 
ending sometimes successfully, but as 
often with minor disasters, until public 
opinion became sceptical of the future 
of air voyaging. We find the Courier 
commenting severely on one man who 
announced that he would take his little 
daughter as passenger if the weather was 
favorable. "In our humble opinion," 
says the editorial, "we have had balloon- 
ing enough already, and if there should 
be no more for fifty years, science would 
lose nothing of the vast discoveries and 
improvements she has acquired in the 
last half-century. Still, if some are ad- 
venturous and reckless enough to run the 
hazard of 'dying as a fool dieth/ without 
the possibility of ascertaining a single 
fact, or settling a single principle that 




Inflating apparatus used on Boston Common 



HISTORIC HAPPENINGS ON BOSTON COMMON 



101 












A BALLOON VIEW OF BOSTON IN 1 834 



shall add to the general fund of useful 
knowledge, — why let them have their 
way. But do not let them risk any one 
else's life, especially one who cannot de- 
cide for herself." 

John Wise, whom the city was for- 
tunate enough to entertain in 1857, did 
not come, however, in this category of 
reckless adventurers. All Boston turned 
out to see this veteran balloonist of Lan- 



caster, Pennsylvania, who was already 
known on both sides of the Atlantic for 
the patient and original investigations 
which won for him in later years the 
title of the "Father of American Aero- 
nautics." The science had made great 
progress since Mr. Durant's day, and 
this was Mr. Wise's two hundredth 
ascension as over against the New York- 
er's tenth. For thirty years he had been 



10. 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



making experiments in the structure of 
balloons and taking observations on the 
conditions of air currents, storms, and 
various altitudes, till his books have been 
consulted as authorities by aeronauts un- 
til the discoveries of the last decade have 
made all old records out-of-date. 

Mr. Wise brought with him his son, 
Mr. Charles Wise, and their flight from 
the Common was the leading feature of 
the Fourth of July celebration of 1S57. 
The young man ascended in a balloon 
named "Young America," and his father 
followed half an hour later in "Old 
America," both sailing out over Boston 
harbor at a height that made, as Mr. 
Wise remarked, the vessels in the bay 
look "as small as the boats the boys sail 
in the Frog Pond on the Common." The 
son landed in Lynn, the father on Pow- 
der House Hill in Chelsea, and both re- 
turned to Boston in time for the festival 
dinner which was being given in honor 
of Mr. Wise, who was on this entire 
visit the guest of the corporation of the 
city. 

Boston has always been given to 
hospitality, and her roll of distinguished 
guests is a notable one. Entertainment 
committees of our grandfathers' day, 
confronted by the frequent question, 
"What shall be done for the man whom 
the city delighteth to honor?" had a time- 
honored and invariable reply, "Welcome 
him on the Common." Whatever else 
they might do for the distinguished 
visitor, and whatever the occasion of his 
coming, it was a foregone conclusion 
that he must either review the Massachu- 
setts troops on the Common parade 
ground or drive through a procession of 
school-children drawn up to receive him 
on one of the shaded malls. One of 
these walks bears to this day the name 
of Lafayette in memory of the time 
when the Frenchman returned to 
America in 1824 as the nation's guest 
to be shown by a grateful people that 
they had not forgotten the services which 
he had rendered forty-five years before 
during the Revolution. 

Along the grassy edges of the wide 
path were standing on that summer day 
two unending lines of school children, — - 
twenty-five hundred in all, — "the misses 



clad mostly in white, the lads in blue 
coats and white underclothes, — each 
bearing a portrait of Lafayette stamped 
on ribbon on his breast." As the hero 
of the Revolution passed between the 
lines, a little girl six years old stepped 
forward, and begged leave to address 
him. She was handed up to the Mayor, 
and by him to the General, who saluted 
her. Standing in the carriage she read a 
poem welcoming the distinguished 
Frenchman, and then taking a wreath of 
flowers from her head placed it on his 
own. He "made her a very affectionate 
reply," and placed the wreath carefully 
in his carriage. 

It is of this or one of Lafayette's 
earlier visits to Boston that the story is 
told of his driving through the admiring 
crowds with the mayor and having so 
many children held up by their fond 
parents for him to salute that the gallant 
Frenchman was quite overwhelmed and 
exclaimed in despair to his neighbour, 
"You kiss all those on your side of the 
carriage, Mr. Mayor, and I'll kiss those 
on mine." Perhaps he enjoyed better, 
although he would have been too polite 
to confess it, the military displays gotten 
up for his benefit on the water side of the 
Common. The General had a weakness 
for soldiers' parades and drills, and the 
governor, remembering this, ordered 
brigades to the number of six or seven 
thousand men to report for their summer 
duty on the Common in this year of his 
return to America. Besides the ordinary 
marches and counter-marches the troops 
gave an exhibition of shooting with a 
floating billet on Back Bay for the tar- 
get, and the old man was greatly pleased 
when he proved by hitting it that he had 
not forgotten his marksmanship. 

The next "guests of the nation" to 
come to Boston were a curious contrast 
to the polished and courtly Frenchman, 
— but they too were entertained, or 
rather provided entertainment for their 
hosts, on the Common. Out on the 
farther banks of the Mississippi several 
Tndian tribes had taken their last stand 
and been forced to yield an unwilling 
submission to the sovereign government 
of the United States. When their chiefs 
came to Washington to sign the treaties 



HISTORIC HAPPENINGS ON BOSTON COMM 



ON 



103 



of peace, they expressed great surprise 
at the size of the houses and the number 
of people. They had never thought 
there were so many "pale-faces" in the 
world, they said. So the President de- 
cided to send them on a tour of the 
country to impress them with the size 
and majesty of the nation, and the 
futility of resistance or future uprisings. 
A party of fifty-three were conducted 
through the East by General Street. The 
company was so large because the lead- 
ing chieftain, Keokuk, had brought with 
him to Washington his defeated rival, 
the famous Black Hawk, whom he did 
not dare to leave at home for fear he 
would reinstate himself as head of the 
tribe. The general had, therefore, two 
separate companies on his hands, who 
refused to mingle or hold any communi- 
cation with each other ; but to those who 
welcomed them to their cities there was 
an added interest in the knowledge that 
the aborigine was holding to his old 
traditions of tribal enmity and was there- 
fore in their eyes more true to life, even 
though more difficult to manage as a 
guest. 

Boston was one of the last places to 
be visited. The Indians had been to 
Philadelphia and had seen Mr. Wise 
make a balloon ascension, inquiring as 
they watched him fly upwards whether 
he would remain with the Great Spirit or 
whether he went only to carry a message. 
They had been royally entertained in 
New York and Baltimore ; and in Octo- 
ber of 1837 they reached Boston. The 
Mayor received them in Faneuil Hall and 
gave them the freedom of the city ; ex- 
cursions were arranged to the armories 
and navy-yard that they might see what 
a powerful nation the United States 
would be in war; they were entertained 
at the Boston theatres, Keokuk's party 
at the National, seeing "The Tragedy of 
George Barnwell, or the London Ap- 
prentice," followed by a pantomime of 
"The Farmer's Son," and Black Hawk's 
party at the Tremont, seeing the new 
tragedy of "The Broker of Bogota ;" 
they were given a levee for the ladies to 
meet them at Faneuil Hall. They ex- 
pressed themselves as delighted with 
everything they were shown, and be- 



haved meanwhile in a very proper and 
dignified way. On the last day of their 
stay Governor Edward Everett and his 
staff welcomed them with all formality 
in the State House. It must have been a 
striking scene, the famous statesman of 
high lineage and polished manners ad- 
dressing as brothers the chiefs of these 
Western tribes of savages with their gut- 
tural speech and their primitive garb. 
The Indians accepted with delight the 
gifts of arms and bows and arrows which 
he presented them, and asked that as a 
slight return for the kindness with which 
they had been treated they be allowed to 
dance a war-dance on the Common. 

Francis Parkman, the historian, tells 
how one of the memorable events of his 
boyhood was the sight of this Indian 
war-dance, when he saw for the first 
time representatives of the race of which 
he was to be in later life a most dis- 
tinguished student. The two sets of In- 
dians formed a large circle, their faces 
painted with gay war-paints, and one of 
their number stood in the centre beating 
a drum while the rest moved in and out 
with wild gesticulations, uncouth move- 
ments, and savage yells which greatly 
delighted the boys in the crowd. Red 
men were rarely seen in the East, and 
their visit and especially this perform- 
ance on the Common roused so much 
curiosity that crowds followed them 
everywhere. The Mayor had to request 
that they be allowed to walk the streets 
without having curious onlookers press 
against them and try to touch them. A 
wag of the day composed a scornful ditty 
on the way Bostonians lost their heads 
over their strange guests, which ended : 

"And such crowds at all hours 
At their heels did so paddle, 
You'd have sworn by the powers 
That their brains were all addle.". 

Eight presidents, Washington, Adams. 
Jefferson, Monroe, Jackson, Tyler, Polk, 
and Fillmore, made visits to Boston on 
various occasions before the middle of 
the nineteenth century, and almost all 
were entertained in one fashion or an- 
other on the city's park. Pictures have 
come down to us of Adams reviewing 
the troops in their quaint old-style uni- 



104 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



forms, while ladies in hoop-skirts and 
huge bonnets gazed admiringly upon the 
scene. Nor is the record complete with 
the list of those who were received with 
pageants and processions. Here on this 
common meeting ground of the city, 
Wendell Phillips and his fellow-aboli- 
tionists thundered forth denunciations of 
slavery, and were greeted with hoots of 
derision if not with harsher demonstra- 
tions. But here they had the satisfac- 
tion in the decade before the Civil War 
of being listened to with far different 
sentiment when the Southern owners 
were trying to have fugitive slaves de- 
livered to them from Boston's own 
streets and vessels. 

On an eminence opposite the Army 



and Navy Monument stands the St. 
Gaudens Memorial to Robert Gould 
Shaw, aristocrat by birth and democrat 
by conviction, who left his position in 
one of the finest regiments in the State 
to lead Massachusetts colored infantry 
in the Civil War. And on another side 
of the Common stands a granite shaft 
calling to mind patriots of a still earlier 
day. The figure is a bronze statue 
representing "Revolution," and it com- 
memorates the Boston Massacre of 1770, 
that night when, as the inscription by 
John Adams reads, "the foundation of 
American Independence was laid." Truly 
it is a distinguished list of the nation's 
heroes, this honor roll of Boston Com- 
mon. 



At the Shrine 

By GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE 



Mary, humanity's Woman, immaculate Mother, 

Is it thou, thou alone, that art pure, and never another? 

For the babe at my breast many deaths did my body endure: 
The girl died, the virgin, — yea, all that the past counted pure. 

Then the deepest last dying, the shudder so woeful and wild, 
The smothering darkness . . . the pitiful cry of the child! 

O Mary, the bliss that came after, — the rapture of bliss, — 
How I would laugh him to laughter, and how we would kiss ! 

How I would clasp him in terror when trouble would linger and stay ! 
Trouble? for any but him, my masterful man-child alway. 

How he would lie in my bosom, and how I would breathe his name, 

How I would watch him and love him, and dream of his lordly far fame ! 

'Twas a wraith, a mistake, — 'twas not / that lived there in the past, 
A pale futile girl, — now a woman, a woman at last! 

For how could she know, that pale one, so saintly and so clean, 
That Madonna dwells eternal in the breast of Magdalene? 

Mary, humanity's Woman, immaculate Mother, 

Is it thou, thou alone, that art pure, and never another? 




The glory of the hills 




Louis Adams Frothingham 

A DEMOCRAT who has risen superior to his 
aristocratic lineage ; a sturdy athlete whose mind 
has been as well trained as his body; a manly 
companion and a warm friend ; a clear-witted 
and forceful lawyer ; a master of the technique of finance 
and the handling of large properties ; a soldier with a 
record of fine accomplishings ; a lawmaker of distinction 
who rose to the chair of speaker of the House of 
Representatives ; a student of the science of education 
and the youngest member of the Harvard overseers — 
these varied personalities are admirably moulded in one 
well-rounded man, Louis Adams Frothingham, Lieutenant 
Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. The 
most approachable of men to those whose motives can 
bear inspection, he can chill into inanition the few of the 
other sort who may venture near him. Time was when 
some said of him that he could not make friends of the 
people. The picturesque campaign of 1908, which result- 
ed in his nomination and election to the lieutenant 
governorship, disproved all that. The proletariat sang, 
"When Louis Comes Marching Home," and shouted their 
approval wherever he appeared. 




A. Shuman 



LEADING merchant, public benefactor and human- 
itarian. A credit to Boston and one who is 
heartily beloved by all who know him. 

He is essentially a self-made man, and his 
mammoth business house is a monument to his sterling 
character and ability. 

He has always been identified with the commercial 
club of Boston and his advice and co-operation have been 
freely given upon all great questions. 

For several years Mr. Shuman has been an active 
member of the board of trustees of the City Hospital and 
for many years has been president of the board, a po- 
sition which has called for a large portion of his time, 
and yet he has so filled his time that there is no one in 
the institution whom he does not know. In public affairs, 
as applied to essentials by which charities and institutions 
are benefited, Mr. Shuman is especially conspicuous, and 
is frequently noted in the press for kindly deeds coupled 
with gifts that are bestowed with admirable tact and 
discretion. 







■<T S YOTJTfO- 



^- 




Gen. Charles H.Taylor 

TO the public at large, Gen. Charles H. Taylor of 
the Boston Globe, is the editor and publisher 
of a great newspaper, the prestige and prosperity 
of which are the results of his brilliant abilities 
and far-sighted enterprise. 

To editors and publishers, he is one of the strongest 
forces in progressive journalism, a business man of rare 
acumen, a friendly but formidable competitor, and a 
public-spirited citizen especially assiduous in the promo- 
tion of New England interests. 

To newspaper men in general, he represents success 
achieved by means of a thorough acquaintance with 
editorial requirements,, a natural capacity for business 
affairs, a disposition free from envy, and a willingness 
to be of service to the less fortunate in life's battle. 
His popularity among members of the press is unbounded. 

To his employes or associates — whichever they may be 
called, for they are both — he is the ideal leader in journal- 
ism — a project which calls for talents of the most 
divergent kinds. Between him and his fellow-workers 
there exists a fraternal sympathy. Their loyalty to him 
is only equalled by his loyalty to them. 




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A GENIAL kindly gentleman, a clever and respect- 
ed lawyer, a keen man of business, a faithful 
adherent to his political party, an ardent alumnu: 
of his alma mater, the Honorable Melvin Ohio 
Adams stands out a prominent figure among notable 
Bostonians. 

As Dr. Johnson said of Goldsmith that he had touched 
nothing which he did not adore, one might say in view 
of the varied interests with which Mr. Adams has con- 
nected himself that he has attempted nothing in which 
he has not met with success. As a railroad president, as 
a director of various financial institutions, as a trustee 
of Gushing Academy and Dartmouth College, as an at- 
torney, his integrity and ability have never been ques- 
tioned. 

"Self-reliant, resourceful and helpful, and endowed 
with great directive capacity," as his classmate, Professor 
Charles F. Richardson describes him, he has risen 
steadily since his admission to the Bar in 1875, holding 
at various times the positions of Assistant District At- 
torney of Suffolk County, member of the Governor's 
staff, and United States District Attorney. 



Harry P. Nawn 

WHEN it became apparent a few weeks ago that 
a world's record for speed as well as excellence 
in construction was evidently being made in the 
building of the Cambridge Subway, a reporter 
asked one of the officials of the Boston Elevated Railway 
to explain how the feat was accomplished, and instead of 
receiving a description of novel methods, the answer 
that was given was, "We gave the job to Harry Nawn." 
*.. Mr. Harry P. Nawn, president of the Hugh Nawn 
Contracting Company, is a man of small stature, but of 
big accomplishments. In Boston's elevated and under- 
ground railway lines and in the immense metropolitan 
water system are seen samples of his work. If you try 
to imagine how much high tension energy can be concen- 
trated in one person, and then add to that a courage suffi- 
cient to undertake anything, and pile upon that an ex- 
traordinary ability for meeting emergencies and unusual 
situations, and cover the whole wih a liberal supply of 
integrity and square dealing the result will be a reason- 
ably good counterfeit of the sort of man that ordinarily 
walks under the hat of Harry P. Nawn. 



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Calvin Austin 



CALVIN AUSTIN— good fairies hovered o'er his 
cradle, else how account for that phenomenal 
success which has attended him, his rapid rise 
from a country lad, from office boy to the presi- 
dency and active management of an aggregation of steam- 
ship lines involving millions of dollars. One must look 
to the peculiar personal qualities of the man himself for 
the secret of the great, almost commanding influence, 
which Mr. Austin wields over his associates, and em- 
ployees with whom he comes in daily contact. They 
include half a dozen characteristics, but primarily busi- 
ness ability of the highest order, ceaseless industry, tire- 
less energy, absolute fairness and frankness on all ques- 
tions and toward all persons, and a studied regard for 
detail. These qualities, with a backing of ambition to 
succeed have made Calvin Austin an actual force, a tower- 
ing personality, where other men, lacking any one of 
them, might only be ordinary. He has "hoed his own 
row" without suffering the penalty of isolation for so 
doing. He is as likely to exchange greetings with the 
"lumper" on the docks as with the highest salaried man 
in his employ, for he is essentially a man of heart as well 
as head, thoroughly social yet intolerant of mollycoddles. 



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Thomas F. Galvin 

THOMAS F. GALVIN, son of the pioneer florist 
of New England, is the best known and most 
popular florist in the United States. For nearly 
three-quarters of a century the House of Galvin 
has been a prominent factor in cultivating the public 
taste for flowers, and his Back Bay conservatory is the 
most capacious and architecturally aesthetic building of 
its kind in the world. The celebrated Lawson Pink, for 
which Thomas W.- Lawson paid $30,000, is a product of 
Mr. Galvin's genius as a horticulturalist. Inventor of 
the system of telegraphing and cabling orders for flowers, 
Mr. Galvin has placed orders as far East as Calcutta, 
India. The prevailing vogue for orchids is a resultant 
of Mr. Galvin's educational campaign to serve the public 
with beautiful flowers at moderate cost. Courteous, con- 
siderate and careful to the slightest detail, Mr. Galvin is 
his business' most valued asset, and is an exemplar of 
what is ideal in the method of making art subserve busi- 
ness. Associated with him in a laudable desire to per- 
petuate an honorable name in an artistic industry, is his 
son, Thomas F. Galvin, junior. 





Edwin Upton Curtis 

LAWYER, man of business, financier, politician, 
broadly trained and widely experienced, Edwin 
Upton Curtis has filled important positions in 
city, state and nation. 

Physically fit and mentally alert, intensely direct in 
his method of handling men and affairs, neither seeking 
the limelight nor disturbed by clamor, he today is doing 
more than the usual individual share of the world's 
work, and with the untiring energy and unmistakeable 
success which red blood always compels. 

Boston born and bred, he is known of all classes and 
keenly knows them all. His judgment of men and 
affairs seldom errs. As reliable in personal counsel or 
official action as when pulling a winning oar in a college 
crew, his popularity is wide-spread and positions of trust 
have come to him naturally. 

Today, Collector of Customs for the District of 
Boston and Charlestown, his rule at the Custom House 
is characterized by strict adherence to the laws, by abso- 
lute impartiality in their application, and by business 
methods of administration. 



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The Pilgrim Publicity Association 



The Pilgrim Publicity Association of 
New England is essentially an adver- 
tising association. Its mission is the ex- 
tension and certification of advertising 
as the most effective method for the 
effectual promotion of the business of 
New England. It wishes to build up 
business by means of advertising. It is 
not essentially an altruistic organization, 
nor yet a mutualistic organization. It 
believes in the efficacy of advertising, 
and it wishes business interests to realize 
all of the elements which have to do with 
the successful promotion of business 
through publicity. Therefore it recog- 
nizes the patent fact that underneath 
visible and obvious business conditions 
there lies a great stratum of tendencies, 
motives, aspirations, influences — racial, 
climatic, ethnic, historical — which have 
to be considered and manipulated. It 
understands that nothing is necessary to 
set men at work in the right direction 
but to point that direction, and to inspire 
men with intelligent enthusiasm — to 
rouse men to the thinking point. There- 
fore it is that the Speakers Bureau has 
been instituted. Its office is to incite to 
thought, to arouse enthusiasm through 
spread of information, to promote • co- 
operative effort, to picture the power of 
federated effort, to give an impulse to 
initiative, to attempt to bring men to- 
gether in such fashion that they will con- 
tribute each his atom of energy to a com- 
mon purpose. It has no definite program 
of work, but holds itself ready to act 
whenever and wherever it seems prob- 
able that its objects may be furthered, 
knowing that small tongues of flame 
spring up far in front of the prairie fire 
and the undercurrent of the conflagra- 
tion flings pioneer sparks ahead. 

The Pilgrim Publicity Association is 
kindling in New England a fire of 
enthusiasm for progress, and its Speak- 
ers Bureau was organized to scatter 

"4 



sparks ahead. Its members are men 
trained in business and publicity methods, 
earnestly desirous of arousing a new 
spirit throughout this section. 

As it is the belief of this organization 
that all needful activities will follow the 
awakening of real civic enthusiasm in 
any community, speakers are prepared 
to go out with messages designed to fire 
local organizations with the spirit of 
progress that has already swept over 
New England, stirring individuals deep- 
ly in every section. 

It is the conviction of the Speakers 
Bureau, and of the Pilgrim Publicity 
Association, that the necessary prime 
factor in the awakening of New England 
and the development of her supreme op- 
portunity is the arousing of her people. 
It may be said that the people of New 
England are aware of the opportunity 
that clamors for their attention, and the 
answer is that their appreciation is as yet 
largely academic. They believe in New 
England, for the other fellow to develop. 
They have for so many generations been 
bred to look beyond our borders for their 
individual opportunity, and they have so 
constantly found it there, that it is some- 
thing of an effort to realize that a money- 
making equivalent of Calumet & Hecla 
is in the land within the range of their 
uncomprehending eyes. So fixed has 
this habit become with us of New Eng- 
land that we rejoice in the fact that men 
are coming to New England from be- 
yond the Mississippi, from Texas, from 
California, and other sections to which 
we are constantly sending our investment 
money, to develop the neglected poten- 
tialities of New England. It is this naive 
perversion of judgment, this perfectly 
accountable fiscal astigmatism, which the 
Speakers Bureau wishes to correct. It is 
done through inspiring bodies of organ- 
ized men to study the problem for them- 
selves, and promoting the formation of 



THE PILGRIM PUBLICITY ASSOCIATION 



115 



such organizations where none are in 
existence. Methods to be followed in 
organizing for effective work are dis- 
cussed, illustrations of successful efforts 
that have been tested in different parts of 
the country are given. Even foreign 
countries are drawn upon for examples 
of effective civic improvement work. 

It is part of the work of advertising 
men to collect available data before sug- 
gesting action. Consequently there are 
a multitude of sources from which in- 
formation has been collected for the 
work of the Speakers Bureau ; and it is 
all focused to the same end, the up- 
building of the important interests of 
New England. 

During the past year' the Speakers 
Bureau has been represented before 
boards of trade, merchants associations, 
church clubs, schools, fraternities, sales- 
men's round-ups, outings, and gather- 
ings of advertising men in many parts 
of New England. Its speakers have been 
heard in Springfield, Pittsfield, Portland, 
Providence, Claremont, N. H., Brockton, 
Haverhill, Hyde Park, Cambridge, 
Salem, St. Johnsbury, Vt., and upon 
many occasions in Boston. 

One result has been the formation of 
several publicity clubs, of which there 
are now five, in addition to the parent 
association in Boston. Springfield was 
the first to organize, and has a strong 
club, over a year old, working, in close 
union with the Board of Trade, for the 
development of all the vital interests of 
that city and the neighboring com- 
munities. Providence, Worcester, Port- 
land and Pittsfield have followed, and a 
federation of New England publicity 
clubs will probably result, with many 
other cities represented before the year 
is finished. 

It appears that a properly organized 
publicity club can originate and advocate 
much that the more conservative civic 
and business bodies might hesitate to 
propose, but which they will readily sup- 
port and help to execute. Wise publicity 
helps every good work, and advertising 
men imbued with civic pride become 
effective missionaries. Therefore, they 
are listened to with attention, and ready 
acceptance accorded the sentiment : 



"Advertising compels evolution upward." 

What is the general trend of the mes- 
sage of the Speakers Bureau? 

That each community shall organize its 
own resources for the greatest efficiency. 
Specifically, attention is being directed to 
three lines of effort ; the perfecting of 
cities, the development of model fac- 
tories with garden suburbs, the working 
out of model farms of differing units in 
acreage to suit different capacities and 
racial temperaments. 

All these movements are based upon 
successful though isolated undertakings 
in different parts of the United States or 
foreign countries, and are considered to 
be fundamental in publicity work be- 
cause they are fundamentally industrial 
and social enterprises. 

Boston is the centre of effort for all 
these lines of work. That city will prob- 
ably soon be able to show each of these 
test undertakings in successful operation. 
They will then become object lessons for 
all New England, easily studied, and 
successfully advertised. 

On the success of these undertakings 
much depends. If they prove practical, 
New England need fear no competition 
in the future, if her people apply the 
lessons in their practical work. The city 
that is perfected up to the standard that 
has been reached by cities in other parts 
of the world will become the mecca of 
skilled and contented labor, as well as 
of shrewd and far-seeing manufac- 
turers. With what have been termed 
model factories, producing the highest 
type of manufactured goods, advertised 
scientifically to the widest possible mar- 
ket, the city will necessarily be prosper- 
ous. Successful agriculture will support 
the city's population most advantageous- 
ly, independent of distant parts, and will 
furnish the foundation for success in all 
and social enterprises. 

Thus, very briefly and without enter- 
ing into a careful analysis of the argu- 
ments and illustrations explanatory of 
the Speakers and its activities, its case 
in part may be stated. 

Finally and in a supplemental sense, 
there is the presentation of scientific pub- 
licity in all its aspects, as applied to partic- 
ular projects and goods which its speak- 



116 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



ers do not neglect to make a part of all 
addresses. Perhaps one of the most ad- 
vanced and thorough courses ever pre- 
sented has been prepared by a committee 
of the P. P. A. and the Speakers Bureau, 
for the Boston Y. M. C. A., to begin in 
October. The lectures are to be given 
by some of the best known business men, 
manufacturers, and advertising men, in 
this section ; members of the Pilgrim 
Publicity Association, and of its Speak- 
ers Bureau. It is expected that these 
lectures will be available for delivery in 
the wider field during the winter, when 
arrangements can be made for their use 
by other organizations. 

Many of the speakers without long ex- 
perience have, by reason of earnestness 
and deep conviction, and the study of 
basic publicity principles, become most 
effective, and their talks invariably prove 
interesting features in convention pro- 
grams, etc. They have gone out, in most 
cases, at their own expense, except when 
considerable distances are travelled their 
railroad fares have been defrayed. All 
requests for speakers from every sort of 
body have been met without delay, and 
without further obligation than is in- 
volved in an expressed willingness to 
accept the service. Real pioneers, they 
seek reward in opportunity. If New 
England thrives, they thrive. 

Had the philosopher, Seneca, exiled 
to savage Sicily by the tyrant Caligula, 
spent his time in advertising the charms 
of that wilderness, he might perhaps 
have attracted a multitude of patricians, 
with millions of sestercse, to help beguile 
his stay. Instead he spent doleful years 
bewailing his fate. 

The Pilgrim Publicity Association be- 
lieves in New England and scientifically 



advertises its belief. More than that, the 
Association wishes to aid others to ad- 
vertise effectively the natural advantages 
and the products of this section. In the 
end, it hopes for a great and profitable 
development of the resources of this 
wonderful region,, knowing that, what- 
ever limitations may be imposed, New 
England can rise supreme through em- 
ploying scientific methods of develop- 
ment and wise publicity. 

The Speakers Bureau proposes to 
supply the spoken word, to keep pace 
with the printed word, a matter of prime 
importance in scientific publicity cam- 
paigns and too often overlooked or neg- 
lected. It realizes the value of personal 
appeal, and its foreward, as well as its 
evolved philosophy for all New England, 



is 



Wake 



up 



Advertise ! Advance ! 



Grow, and wax great ! 

On the horizon it points to the annual 
convention of the Associated Advertising 
Clubs of America, to be held in Boston 
next July, at which representatives from 
Europe, Australia, Africa, New Zealand, 
and South America are expected to be 
present. With 2500 of the ablest ad- 
vertising men in the world gathered 
within her borders, New England should 
be prepared to reveal all her wonderful 
resources, and begin a new work of 
illustrating vital matters of self develop- 
ment, to perpetuate the spirit of the 
pioneers of Plymouth, and carry to its 
logical and glorious conclusion the com- 
mission the Pilgrims accepted when they 
landed, nearly three centuries ago, for 
the planting of the nation that should 
illustrate in its life and accomplishments 
the aspirations of civilization. 





THE GROWTH OF CITIES 

This is the era of municipal awaken- 
ing, and here in New England many of 
our cities are scanning eagerly or an- 
xiously the census returns. Many show 
growth that would not seem despicable in 
the most golden days of the west. As- 
suredly an epoch of expansion is upon us. 

But there will be many communities 
that will show no growth or even a de- 
cline. Oftentimes, no doubt, this is due 
to economic conditions beyond local con- 
tiol. Quite often, also, it is due solely to 
local inertion, or factionalism. No com- 
munity can be larger than the spirit of its 
leaders. Small men make small com- 
munities. If the growth of your own 
town, village or city is a matter of solic- 
itude to you, a little heart-searching is 
in order. Communities do not thrive on 
factions, nor public activities on closed 
pocket-books. There are many plans and 
many ways, all more or less good, but all 
need adequate and unified support. 



PARTY SOLIDARITY OF THE 
RIGHT KIND 

No political party can lay claim to 
great vitality which has not room within 
its strictest party lines for that breadth of 
discussion and divergence of individual 
view point which is essential to the form- 
ation of political opinion. While the ir- 
reverent and the shallow are greedily 
seizing on every indication of difference 
between Mr. Roosevelt and President 
Taft, and gleefully watching for a com- 
plete rupture, serious observers must find 
a truer satisfaction in difference without 
rupture and union for real strength in 
action. That appears to be the situation 
today and it augurs well for the con- 
tinued vitality of the party. 



It would indeed be a misfortune if any 
political party in this country could so 
"tune" its supporters as to draw from all 
an identical utterance on all public issues. 
Ability to get together for action is that 
which makes the party worthy of sup- 
port. The tactics of certain congres- 
sional factions of the last congress were 
not such as to deepen confidence, but the 
respective attitudes of such leaders as 
President Taft and Mr. Roosevelt are 
decidedly reassuring. The President's 
so-called "key-note" letter to Mr. Mc- 
Kinley is, as all of his utterances have 
been, not the autocratic formulation of a 
policy, but a perfectly open and frank- 
piece of reasoning appealing to the judg- 
ment of voters and leaders alike. 



THE DEATH OF PROFESSOR 
JAMES 

Professor Henry James of Harvard 
University, accomplished by his open- 
mindedness toward groups of facts com- 
monly ignored or belittled, a great work 
for the advancement of science. The 
ultra-materialism that had begun to char- 
acterize the psychology of the last half 
of the nineteenth century yielded gradual- 
ly to influences among which his clear 
reasoning and rigid faithfulness was one 
of the strongest. He possessed that first 
requirement of a truly great scientist, 
reverence for fact and willingness to part 
instanter with the most fondly cherished 
theories. In fact Professor James im- 
pressed one as somewhat belligerent to- 
ward theories, by nature opposed to their 
arrogant claims. This kept him a true 
champion of the freedom as over against 
the dogmatism of science. 

It was far better, in the state of psycho- 
logical science as he found it, to have 
occasionally been the victim of char- 

117 



118 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



latanry than to have pharasaically ex- 
cluded whole domains of fact. Whether 
his actual contributions to the growth of 
psychological knowledge prove to be 
great or small under the testing of time, 
that which he was able to accomplish for 
the freedom of science is woven into the 
fabric of intellectual progress. 

To many New Englanders his death 
will mean a more personal affliction that 
outweighs the public loss. 



The carrier pigeon has been defeated 
by the aeroplane as the horse was long 
since by the locomotive and the automo- 
bile. Argue it as we will, a touch of 
romance passes with the incident. 



BOSTON SYMPHONY AUCTION 
OF SEATS 

The thirtieth season of that unpar- 
alleled organization of culture and en- 
joyment, the Boston Symphony Orches- 
tra, will open Friday, October seventh, 
and Saturday evening, October eighth ; 
There are many reasons to expect this 
to be an exceptionally interesting, attrac- 
tive and prosperous season. The orches- 
tra is to contain one hundred and one 
men this year, larger than ever before, 
and the list of assisting artists is 
especially attractive. The auction sale 
of seats will begin on Monday, Septem- 
ber 26th at 10 a. m. The sale of after- 
noon or rehearsal seats will occur on 
this date and on Tuesday, September 
27th at 10 a. m. 

The sale of seats for the evening con- 
certs will begin on Thursday, September 
29th at 10 a. m., and be continued Fri- 
day, September 30th at 10 a. m. Mr. 
Max Fiedler will again conduct the 
orchestra. 




Elsie Ferguson signalized the opening 
of the Hollis Street Theatre, September 
5th with the first presentation in Boston 
of a new play entitled, "A Matter of 



Money," by a young and hitherto un- 
known author, Paul Harness. Miss 
Ferguson could well afford to feel 
proud of her flattering reception last 
season when she brought that charming 
conceit "Such a Little Queen" to the 
Tremont theatre. In the new play — a 
liberal use of highly emotional work is 
demanded of this young star — but her 
manager, Henry B. Harris, firmly be- 
lieves that in Miss Ferguson we have 
the coming emotional star of America. 
The theme of the play is the employment 
of child-labor in American mills and 
factories, and has a certain element of 
timeliness that can't help but make it 
an attractive offering. After Boston and 
Philadelphia engagements Miss Fer- 
guson takes "A Matter of Money" into 
New York at the Savoy theatre. 

W T hile many Bostonians have wit- 
nessed one or more performances of 
"The Round Up," which began an en- 
gagement at the Boston Theatre last 
week, few have ever seen a better pres- 
entation of this now famous melodroma. 
The big stage of the theatre offered 
every facility for the spectacular effects, 
both the battle scene and the closing act, 
and the enthusiasm was raised to even 
greater than the ordinary pitch. 

Rapley Holmes headed the cast as the 
big sheriff and gave the same interesting 
comedy impersonation which he offered 
last season at the Colonial Theatre. 

Klaw & Erlanger have a remarkably 
well balanced cast and all the members 
of the company seem to be particularly 
adapted to their respective roles. 

The engagement is a limited one and it 
behooves all who desire to see this note- 
worthy drama under the most auspicious 
circumstances to do so at once. 

"The Circus Girl" came back to the 
Castle Square for a limited revival. Once 
more the Terrible Turk received his 
challenge from little Biggs, and once 
more little Biggs was scared out of his 
wits when he found that it was accepted ; 
once more Mary Young played Lucil to 
the intense delight of a large audience ; 
once more the commissaire's scene 
brought forth tempests of laughter, and 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



19 



once more Donald Meek and Miss Young 
were as amusing a pair of clowns as has 
ever been seen on any stage. All in all, 
"The Circus Girl" has never been better 
or livelier, and two large audiences yes- 
terday registered their emphatic approval 
of it. Winifred Young made a hit as 
the French Vicomte Gaston, and Mabel 
Colcord was the most comic of Mrs. 
Drivellis. Mr. Craig proved himself an 
excellent light comedian as Jack Capel. 



here in "Brewster's Millions's, played 
the title role, and was as clever and 
funny as ever. His daring flight in the 
long, low, rakish monoplane, whose chat- 
tering engines made the playhouse a ver- 
itable "hager," was thrilling to say the 
least, and as a reward for his feat, he 
wins a bride. 

There were aeroplane accessories all 
over the place, and many who will not 
have the opportunity to go to the avia- 




Elsie Ferguson in a Matter of Money at the Hollis 



Gertrude Bailey made a charming Favor- 
ita, and Donald Meek was an irrepres- 
sible Biggs. 

"The Aviator," a new comedy by 
James Montgomery, was given its first 
pioduction in Boston last week at the 
opening of the Tremont Theatre, with 
a large crowd to witness the start. It 
received a warm welcome at the begin- 
ning and before the entertainment was 
over it had furnished much amusement 
to the big audience. 

Edward Abeles, who was last seen 



tion meet at Atlantic to view the record 
breaking stunts by the manbirds will 
find it just as exciting to watch the per- 
formance of the "Aviator." The whole 
play never fails to be diverting. The 
story briefly is as follows : Robert Street, 
the author of a novel, "The Aviator," is 
advised to take a mental rest in some 
quiet, peaceful spot with a congenial 
companion. Street follows this sugges- 
tion, and accompanied by Hopkinson 
Brown his illustrator, goes to Lenox. 
Arriving at the hotel, they find that all 
the guests have read Street's book. 



120 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Street, although having no practical 
knowledge of aeronautics, has devoted 
one chapter of the book, "The Aviator,'' 
to the subject of aeroplanes and another 
to the description of flight. After a few 
days, Brown, who enjoys the popularity 
reflected upon them, feels that it requires 
a stimulus. Unknown to Street, he tells 
a young lady that the description of the 
flight in the book is Street's own personal 
experience, that in reality he is an avi- 
ator. 

Frank Daniels is always a welcome 
visitor to Boston, where for many sea- 
sons he has paid an annual visit and re- 
ceived a warm greeting. He is here 
once more, this time at the Shubert 
Theatre, with "The Belle of Brittany," 
an English importation, which has been 
played with success elsewhere. 

Like other pieces of its class which 
have recently crossed the Atlantic, "The 
Belle of Brittany" does not rely heavily 
on its plot. There is a story which one 
may discover should he search diligently, 
like Esau, and probably meet with the 
same success as the Hebrew shepherd 
did with his birthright. 

But Mr. Daniels is there in all his 
glory, as unctuous as ever, and with 
some of the funniest lines which he has 
ever spoken. He also has a marvellous 
speech which he delivers between the 
two acts after repeated requests on the 
part of the audience. It is no discredit 
to the comedian to state that he has not 
changed his methods, for they are a part 
of his individuality and without them he 
would he would not be Mr. Daniels. 

He has several songs which are of the 
usual Danielian order, and one, "Where 
are the Friends of My Youth," which 
he does not sing, but refers to repeatedly 
to the delight of his listeners. Alto- 
gether it gives the star many opportun- 
ities, none of which escape him. 

The music is bright and of a rather 
higher order than the average entertain- 
ment of this type. Miss Christine Neil- 
sen, the prima donna, has a sweet voice, 
which is heard to advantage in one or 
two numbers, and she is also pleasing to 
contemplate. Emma Francis is there 
with her nimble feet and her voice, and 



Florence Rother looks staturesque and 
noble in the character of Penise. 

The second week of the "Climax" re- 
newed inteiest at the Park Theatre and 
the usual crowd was in attendance to 
listen to the story which has already 
pleased thousands of Bostonians. It is a 
comedy which by reason of its unique 
features, prominent among them being 
the musical numbers, will bear frequent 
repetitions, and the public is rapidly be- 
coming aware of the fact that it is one 
of the most interesting plays which has 
been in Boston for a long time. 

Miss Swinburn and her associates, the 
entire company comprising but four peo- 
ple, have already made themselves fav- 
orites here, and the outlook is for a long 
and prosperous engagement. 

It is now the closing week of the 
engagement of "My Man" at the 
Colonial Theatre. Few plays have cre- 
ated more discussion, for the theme is 
one which has long occupied the public 
mind and Mr. Halsey had told his story 
in intensely dramatic form. While some 
may cavil at the unhappy ending and 
others regret that the author has not 
provided a solution of his problem, still 
the excellent work of the company, 
headed by Mabel Taliaferro, compen- 
sates for much and makes the play in- 
teresting throughout. 

The attraction to follow will be "The 
Arcadians," with Julia Sanderson and 
Frank Moulan in the leading roles. Al- 
ready the fame of the piece has reached 
Boston and the seat sale which will open 
this morning promises to be very large. 

"The Merry Widow," which is now at 
the Majestic Theatre, already has to its 
credit more than thirty weeks in Boston, 
and if the books were shown each of 
these weeks would reveal a substantial 
profit. On Monday next the piece be- 
gins the last week of the present en- 
gagement with every prospect that this 
remarkable record will be maintained. 
There will be the usual matinees Wed- 
nesday and Saturday. 

Next week will positively afford the 
last opportunities to see this delightful 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



121 




Margaret Anglin who will appear in comedy at the 
new llebler and company theatre 



operetta, for prior contracts for both the 
theatre and company prevent a further 
extension of the engagement. Few plays 
can point to such a record as that held 
by "The Merry Widow," and it is en- 
couraging to note that an entertainment 
of such excellence gains this liberal pat- 
ronage from Boston playgoers. 




THE LITERATURE OF A MOVE- 
MENT 

Twelve considerable volumes from the 



press of Messrs. Ginn & Co., are before 
us. They constitute the "International 
Library," edited by Edwin D. Mead, and 
are published for the International 
School of Peace. The titles are as fol- 
lows: 

Scott — American Addresses at. the 
Second Hague Conference. Mailing 
price, $1.65. 

Mead — The Great Design of Henry 
IV. Mailing price, 55 cents. 

Scott — The Texts of the Peace Con- 
ferences at The Hague. Mailing price, 
$2.20. 

Hull — The Two Hague Conferences. 
Mailing price, $1.65. 



122 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Walsh — The Moral Damage of War. 
Mailing price, 90 cents. 

Dodge — W T ar Inconsistent with the 
Religion of Jesus Christ. Mailing price, 
60 cents. 

Bridgman — World Organization. 
Mailing price, 60 cents. 

Warner — The Ethics of Force. Mail- 
ing price, 55 cents. 

Channing — Discourses on War. Mail- 
ing price, 60 cents. 

Sumner — Addresses on War. Mail- 
ing price, 60 cents. 

Bloch — The Future of War. Mailing 
price, 65 cents. 

Mr. Edwin Ginn, in a circular letter 
concerning the library, says : 

"Deeply impressed by our obligations 
and our great opportunities as Americans 
at this juncture, I have felt that the most 
effective influence against the military 
spirit would be the wide circulation 
among our people of the best interna- 
tional books, condemning the methods of 
force and inculcating the methods of 
reason in the settlement of the differ- 
ences between nations. The literature of 
the peace movement is very extensive, 
but almost all of it is unavailable in 
cheap and attractive form. This should 
be remedied ; and to meet the great need 
thoroughly will be one of the primary 
concerns of the International School of 
Peace. A hundred books and pamphlets, 
old and new, should be placed, at slight 
cost, within reach of everybody. These 
books should be in every library, in every 
newspaper office, in every minister's 
study, on every teacher's table, in the 
hands of every man and woman who 
shapes public opinion ; and they should 
serve the Peace Societies and supplement 
the efforts organizer], or to be organized, 
in school and church and business. 
Recognizing this clear need, I began some 
years ago the publication of an Interna- 
tional Library, under the editorial direc- 
tion of Mr. Edwin D. Mead ; and we 
hope to add rapidly to the list such works 
as will best advance the world's better 
organization. These books are sold at 
the lowest possible price, in the interest 
of the peace movement ; and we ask the 



earnest co-operation of all friends of the 
cause in securing for them the widest cir- 
culation." 

Of the twelve titles before us, two, 
Channing's Discourses on War and Sum- 
ner's Addresses on War, may be re- 
garded as classic in American Literature 
by the historical position which they 
hold. To publish them as a part of the 
literature of the Peace Movement is to 
add the weight of two great names to that 
cause and to stimulate American pride in 
the forward part taken by our country- 
men in the next great advance of civiliza- 
tion. 

Bloch's 'The Future of War," by the 
great apostle of peace, Jean De Bloch, is 
an elaborate essay entering with minute 
care into technical military and economic 
considerations. It is the great Peace 
Movement classic of Europe. Its pub- 
lication in this library is a tribute to its 
noble author and adds a certain weight 
to the series. The trend of its argument 
is such that the further development of 
scientific warfare can only add to its 
weight, for it is built on the proposition 
that this very development has become 
so appalling as to threaten the political 
continuance of national life. 

Very suggestive and alive with earnest, 
present day thought is Bridgman's 
"World Organization." This is the 
volume of the series for the busy man of 
today to read. If supplemented by a 
study of the Texts of the Peace Confer- 
ences at The Hague and the American 
Addresses at The Hague, a very ade- 
quate idea of the present state of the 
movement may be formed. 

Mead's "The Great Design" of Henry 
IV. and Edward Everett Hale's paper 
on "The United States of Europe," put 
in attractive form matter that is of ex- 
treme interest to the student of the move- 
ment. 

Walsh's "The Moral Damage of War" 
and Dodge's "War Inconsistent with the 
Religion of Jesus Christ," and Warner's 
"The Ethics of Force," are polemics of 
unusual eloquence. 

Altogether, this literature by its earn- 
estness, sanity and breadth is a most im- 
pressive evidence of the real strength of 
the "Peace Movement," nor could anv 



JN NEW ENGLAND 



123 



more appropriate instrument be em- 
ployed by its leaders than the creation of 
a great literature to disseminate intel- 
ligence, stir sentiment and combat preju- 
dice. 



may enjoy even if he has not made the 
previous acquaintance of "The Clam- 
mer." 



NEW VOLUME BY HENRY 
VAN DYKE 

The "Spirit of America" is the title 
of a new work by Henry Van Dyke. The 
inimitable style of this essayist has com- 
bined with the comprehensive vision of 
the meaning of things which Dr. Van 
Dyke always exercises and the result is 
a most interesting and spontaneous pro- 
duction. It has often seemed that Dr. 
Van Dyke as essayist is a great literary 
force and any point of view which he 
might take could not be unwelcome, to a 
certain extent, because of the lucid and 
scholarly presentation of facts or fancy 
which is his gift. 

The "Spirit of America" will be en- 
joyed by the plain citizen or the scholarly 
and philosophic litterateur. It is pub- 
lished in most attractive form by Mac- 
millan and Co. 



"The Meddlings of Eve" are in the~ 
love affairs of others, as a matter of 
course. This is the latest book from the 
pen of William J. Hopkins, whose earlier 
volumes, "The Clammer" and "Old Har- 
bour," won for him a unique place among 
the successful American writers of fic- 
tion of the hour. The qualities which 
he revealed in these wellknown books, 
of whimsical humor and playfulness 
mingling with idylic sentiment and a 
deeper strain of protest against the mor- 
bid complexities of modern life, are 
found at their best in "The Meddlings of 
Eve." (Houghton, Mifflin & Co., $1.00 
net). In this volume Mr. Hopkins tells 
us how the Clammer's wife helps along 
the love affairs of her two friends, 
Cecily and Margaret. The book is full 
of charming episodes which the reader 



THE ROSARY 

it is too much to hope that "The Ros- 
ary," by Florence Barclay marks a new 
turn in popular fiction — that the day of 
the problem story, of the "Heroine With 
a Past," has seen its close, and that clean, 
wholesome literature has at last come 
into its own. 

That would indeed be too great a 
change for the reading world, already 
surfeited with the trash poured out by 
certain popular writers. But one can be 
cheerful with the realization that we 
have such books as The Rosary, bringing 
with them a freshness of atmosphere not 
soon forgotten. 

The scene opens in an old English 
country estate, but the vital action takes 
place in the picturesque Castle Gleneesh, 
Garth Dalmain's Northern home. The 
whole theme of the book is the story of 
the love of Jane and Garth — a love 
tender and pure which enriches and en- 
nobles both characters. Yet although 
these two central figures stand out pre- 
eminently, "The Rosary" may well be said 
to have an "all-star cast." It is certainly 
rare in our pages of fiction that we meet 
such men and women as we find moving 
in the world about Jane and Garth. Dr. 
"Rob" and Deryck, Myra and the 
Duchess, with their living, breathing per- 
sonality are fascinating people, and our 
great regret is that we see too little of 
them. 

Though the portrayal of character is 
so marked, it is not the only delightful 
merit of the work. Mrs. Barclay has 
given us some charming descriptive 
scenes, and these combined with the ex- 
quisite blending of humor and pathos 
which pervades the entire book make it 
a truly artistic product. 

"The Rosary" is published by G. P. 
Putnam's Sons and sells for $1.35 net. 




The Making of a Trade Mark 



By ROBERT N. DOLE 



To a person interested in the changes 
and growth of manufacturing, there is 
no branch more worthy of a few mo- 
ments consideration than the develop- 
ment of the shirt industry. It is not 
long in point of time from the days, 
when the wife 
purchased her 
materials from 
the nearest dry 
goods shop and 
made all the 
shirts for the 
men of the fam- 
ily, to the days of 
an up-todate shirt 
factory. It is a 
great period of 
i mp r o vement, 
however, in the 
methods of manu- 
facture, for, with 
modern machin- 
ery and system- 
atic business 
methods, the con- 
sumer receives to- 
day shirts better 
in quality, style 
and fit, and lower 
in price than ever before. 

Although shirt manufacturing is an 
enterprise with unusually interesting de- 
tails, little is known of it generally, and 
thousands of citizens in New England 
scarcely realize that right here at their 




Boston office and sales room of the Jacob 
Dreyfus and Sons Company 



very doors, one of the largest shirt in- 
dustries in the country is carried on. 

Forty years of successful manufactur- 
ing with steady growth, entitle the firm 
of Jacob Dreyfus and Sons, manufactur- 
ers of the "Congress" shirt, to an honor- 
able rank in New 
England's indus- 
trial register. The 
thoroughness of 
workmanship, the 
high reputation 
achieved by the 
brand which they 
have made fa- 
mous and the mo- 
dern manufactur- 
ing and honorable 
business methods 
employed by this 
firm are among 
those things 
which give real 
significance to the 
phrase "Made in 
New England." 

That label in 
the case of the 
"Congress" shirt, 
as in so many 
other instances, means skilled labor well 
paid. It means light and cleanly shops. 
It means conservative profits with a first 
care that corporation dividends are not 
squeezed out of the quality of the goods. 
It means economy by skill rather than 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



by skimping the product. 

The manufacture of the "Congress" 
shirt is an important element in the 
prosperity of five or our New England 
communities, the firm having established 
that many factories in different New 
England towns. This wise policy of 
manufacturing the same general product 
under diversified local conditions is one 
reason for the success of the firm in 
promptly filling heavy orders. Jacob 
Dreyfus & Sons have been given import- 



growing demand for tennis, golf and all 
outing purposes, while the heavier 
weights of flannel in navy blue, gray, 
khaki and olive shades are used by 
hunters as well as by engineers and me- 
chanics. 

The Hoston factory is especially 
equipped for negligee shirts to retail at 
one dollar and one dollar and fifty cents 
and upward. For these goods the very 
best fabrics are used. The cut and fit 
are objects of expert attention and no 




Stitching room of the Boston factory 



ant orders by the United States govern- 
ment for military shirts, while fire and 
police departments, as well as letter- 
carriers have all benefitted by their 
ability to deliver contracts quickly. Each 
plant is given just one kind of shirt to 
make and the employees are so drilled 
that constant application to one particu- 
lar class of work has made "Congress" 
shirts a synonym for thoroughness of 
detail and excellence of finish. 

It is interesting to note the develop- 
ment of flannel shirts. Fine French 
flannels made with the French cuff, and 
light weight, plain gray flannels are in 



shirts on the market surpasses them in 
these important particulars. Economy is 
secured by the most up-to-date labor 
saving methods. Cutting is done with 
automatic knives that can handle 150 
pieces of cloth at once and the stitching 
machines are the most modern obtain- 
able. The elimination of waste, together 
with a complete organization of trained 
helpers, are the sources of economy by 
which high value is secured for these 
popular priced garments. 

The "Congress" shirt is not a "sweat- 
shop" product. An inspection by cus- 
tomers of one of the Drevfus factories 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



is a strong selling point. There he will 
find men and women who have been in 
the employ of the firm many years 
(many over twenty-five) and an atmos- 
phere as wholesome as is to be found in 
any industrial establishment, east or 
west. 

Since its organization in 1862 the 
growth of the business has been such 



road, and watchful of every change in 
taste, the firm through their experts, are 
not only up-to-date, but creators and 
leaders in style and fashion. 

There used to be a sedulously culti- 
vated saying that nowhere but on the 
banks of the Hudson could perfect laun- 
dering be done. The Jacob Dreyfus & 
Sons' laundry at Watertown, Mass. has 



Capt. J. McE. Hyde, Asst. Qr. Mr. U.SiAu 
159 H«gH St., Boston, Mass. 



DEPOT QUARTERMASTER'S OFFICE, 
Boston, Mass. May 30,1898. 
Messrs Jacob Dreyfus & Sons, 

Boston, Mass. 
Gentlemen: — 

I am authorized by the Quartermaster-General to accept 
your proposal to furnish 750 dozen Dark Blue Flannel shirts as sample 
marked A, @ #19.25 per dozen, 1400 dozen Dark Blue Flannel shirts as 
sample marked B @ $20.25 per dozen, and 800 dozen Dark Blue Flannel 
shirts as sample marked D at $18.00 per dozen; deliveries to be com- 
pleted June 11th. 1898. The Quartermacter-General requires that the 
material be sponged before it is mede up. 

Please inform me if your proposal of 26th. inst. , holds good under 
these conditions. 

Very respectfully 



f/Joo ' 6 




TL- 



14™ 



Ass't Quartermaster U. S( A 
Fac-simile of U. S. Government order 



that, in 1909 over one million shirts were 
sold to a discriminating trade extending 
throughout the United States. 

Made in New England by New Eng- 
land labor, the "Congress" shirt carries 
the industrial fame of that section of 
the country to the remotest corner of the 
lands. 

Close to the pulse of public demand, 
with a large corps of salesmen on the 



exploded the bubble. There, an ideal 
laundry has been built, where all the 
ironing is hand work, where every shirt 
is given, it would seem, almost personal 
care. A box factory for "Congress" 
boxes is part of the equipment where 
are made special sized and individual 
color boxes for the particular shops. 

The firm employ skilled designers to 
supply them with exclusive patterns, and 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Mr. Jacob Dreyfus 

this, with the cut, workmanship and 
finish unite in the creation of shirts 



aristrocratic in style, democratic in price. 

Mr. Jacob Dreyfus, the founder of the 
firm, is still its active head, and associ- 
ated with him are his three sons, Edwin 
J., Sydney and Carl Dreyfus. With this 
young blood, the expansion of its busi- 
ness is sure to keep pace with its enter- 
prise and to build on the sphndid foun- 
dation that has been laid, an industry of 
enormous proportions. 

This means much for New England. 
It means home consumption for a very 
large amount of the product of our New 
England mills, a condition that adds 
greatly to the strength of their position 
in the inevitable competition with the 
awakening industrial activity of the 
South. It means lucrative employment 
for large numbers of that great army 
of skilled factory labour which genera- 
tions of New England industry has 
gathered and trained, and which is so 
large a part of our wealth. It should, 
and doubtless will mean the good-will 
and loyal support of the people of New 
England for a home industry that con- 
tributes so much to their prosperity at 
home and honor abroad. 







v mz 






ftjm Writ 8j ■ °M 

M|^^^^n!l ■-' 




■ ' •■- \ -' '- ,_v- y ;..;;:_. ,; ; y-;.:.: ^ V- ^ '; 


BHBBBBpBBI 



The Congress Shirt plant at Bath, Maine 




That rich coal 
beds lay hidden 
in the Narra- 
gansett Basin of 
Rhode Island 
was known a 
few years ago to geologists and to men of 
learning in our New England institutions 
only; that this coal offered certain 
qualities superior to the Pennsylvania 
anthracite was also a known fact. 

How to get hold of these properties 
from the old New Englanders who 
owned them — how to market the coal — 
and to educate New Englanders that 
Rhode Island anthracite was in some 
ways a better product than they had been 
burning — were in the hands of three 
men : Henry M. Whitney, president of 
the Rhode Island Coal Company, now 
operating properties in Portsmouth, R. L, 
and E. D. Chaplin and Charles Farrow 
of the Cranston Coal Company, operating 
immense properties of the Cranston Coal 
Company, at Cranston, R. I. 

These three men have in one year 
opened up this new famous vein of coal 
in the Narragansett Basin of Rhode 
Island. 

Jt is said that Henry M. Whitney's in- 
vestment in the R. I. Coal Company be- 
fore it was put on a shipping basis is in 
the neighborhood of $600,000. 

Just what the investment is of the men 
back of the Cranston Coal Company is 
hard to estimate. While it does not ap- 
pear to reach such a phenomenal figure 
as Henry M. Whitney's, we know that it 

J2 4 



By W. B. LAWRENCE 

means thousands and thousands of dol- 
lars. 

The product of the Cranston Coal mine 
is now on the market, and at $5 per ton 
Cranston coal is being offered through- 
out Rhode Island, as against $6.50 to 
$7.50 Pennsylvania anthracite. 

The guide who takes you around 
Providence, showing the points of in- 
terest will ask if you want to see a coal 
mine in active operation. Of course you 
want to see such a novelty, and you take 
the electric cars from the State House at 
Providence and in 20 minutes you are in 
the little town of Cranston, and right on 
the property of the Cranston Coal Com- 
pany. 

The Cranston Coal Company controls 
430 acres of the richest coal land in the 
Narragansett Basin. The writer of this 
article visited the property with a well- 
known engineer, Rockwood Puffer, of 
Boston, and his letter on the subject is 
authentic ; it is also descriptive. Mr. 
Puffer says : 

"I visited your property July 29th last 
and accompanied by your superintendent. 
Mr. Lamb, made a careful inspection of 
the mineral ground so far as conditions 
permitted, two of the older workings 
being not entirely free from water. 

The work that has been begun on the 
property I found to be by open cut. a 
sort of quarrying proposition and so far 
as opened, say about 300 feet in length 
by 15 feet in depth, certainly makes a 
most impressive showing, the same being 
a seam of anthracite coal varying in 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Railway into the seam 



thickness from 12 to 40 feet. With the 
exception of a thin layer of graphite 
material near the surface, the coal is of 
good merchantable quality. 

The strike of the seam now being 
worked is nearly north and south, out- 
cropping on the extreme boundary of the 
company's property, dipping to the east 
quite sharply. In going north on the 
seam, I traced the same for a distance of 
about 6000 feet from the old shaft, 100 
feet more or less south of the open cut, 
and I can state positively that the seam is 
continuous for the entire distance, hold- 
ing very true to its course. The outcrop 
of the coal deposit occurring as it does 
on the western boundary of the com- 
pany's 430 acres of ground, dipping 
sharply underground to the eastward, 
assures an immense tonnage of coal from 



this single seam. Just how many thou- 
sand tons of coal per acre may be devel- 
oped is entirely one of conjecture, but 
judging by the thickness of the seam 
where it is now being worked, it will cer- 
tainly run into large figures. In addition 
to the seam already proven to exist, there 
remains the almost certainty of finding 
other workable seams, thus adding to the 
tonnage at present assured. 

(This assumption can be reasonably 
maintained from the fact that to the 
southeast the Rhode Island Coal Com- 
pany have uncovered three workable 
seams of coal.) 

QUALITY OF COAL 

Much has been said and written, pro 
and con, on the quality of the coals found 
in the so-called Xarrasransett Coal Basin. 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Repeated analyses have shown that the 
anthracite coal found in the portion of 
these coal fields in which the Cranston 
Coal Company's lands are located is 
higher in carbon than the average Penn- 
sylvania anthracite. While somewhat 
lower in volatile matter, and but slightly 
higher in ash, it is much more free from 
sulphur. It is higher in specific gravity 
than any other anthracite coal, so far as 
my observations go, holds its heat longer 
and gives off a much longer flame than 
do the anthracites of Pennsylvania, thus 
giving it great value as a steaming fuel 
when used under proper conditions. 

EQUIPMENT 

The mine, as at present being worked, 
has a suitable equipment, comprising two 
upright boilers, engine coal breaker, 
screens, and powerful derrick used in 
hoisting coal to the breaker. The boilers 
were being fed with the company's coal 
mined on the spot, and gave off a long 
flame under natural conditions, develop- 
ing tremendous heat energy. 



LOCATION 

Volumes could be written regarding 
the location of this great coal deposit. 
Located as it is, but one-eighth of a mile 
from the N. Y., N. H. & H. R. R. Com- 
pany's tracks, all transportation problems 
are removed. Within five miles of the 
large manufacturing city of Providence, 
it will furnish a large market for the 
company's product, both for manufactur- 
ing and domestic use. In a radius of 25 
miles we have the cities of Pawtucket, 
Fall River, Newport, Taunton, New 
Bedford, Brockton, and Worcester, all 
large consumers of coal in manufactur- 
ing and domestic use. Boston, to which 
point the company's coal can be trans- 
ported at a carrying cost not to exceed 
one dollar per ton, will, when the value 
of this coal becomes known, afford a 
large and continuous market. 

IN CONCLUSION 

I believe the property of the Cranston 
Coal Company to be of great value, only 




Mining Rhode Island anthracite 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



needing sufficient capital under intelligent 
management to make it a commercial suc- 
cess." 

MARKETING THE PRODUCT 

Cranston Coal is a high grade anthra- 
cite coal. It is for sale, and if you live 
in the state of Rhode Island, or Massa- 
chusetts, or in fact anywhere in New 
England, and can use the coal in car load 
lots of 20 or 40 tons, it can be delivered 
in your town cheaper than you can buy 
coal for from your dealer. It will pay 
you to write for prices. 

INVESTMENT OPPORTUNITY 

The capitalization of the Cranston 
Coal Company is 1,000,000 shares, par 
value $5. 

It has been carefully estimated by 
President Chaplin there is in sight work- 
able coal to the extent of 50,000,000 tons. 

No one who has ever seen the property 
has ever doubted this statement. 

Imagine a vein of coal 6000 feet long 
that you can trace. 

Some one has said that the Cranston 
Coal Company should have been a 



$50,000,000 company instead of a 
$5,000,000 company. 

The vast amount of deposits on this 
one vein on which the company is work- 
ing, and considering the low cost of 
operating, which is said to be 50 cents 
a ton, should make this stock sell at five 
times its par value. 

This is not a wild statement. 

It is founded on the tremendous coal 
asset which the company now has. 

There is an active market for the 
shares of the Cranston Coal Company. 
Of course the market price varies accord- 
ing to the demand for the stock, and the 
supply. 

If you are an investor, write for parti- 
culars and prices of the shares. 

If you are a consumer and live any- 
where within a reasonable distance of the 
mine, don't hesitate a moment to write 
us for prices, for your winter coal. 

If you are a manufacturer and con- 
tract for 1000 and 10,000 ton lots yearly, 
no matter where you are, it will pay you 
to write us. 

CRANSTON COAL COMPANY, 
ASy 2 Weybosset St., Providence, R. I. 







XV11 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 





There's a Moose 
for You 

Pack your guns— leave your cares 
and worries behind — get away for 
a week or two hunting in 

WOODS 

Old guides report the signs that mean 
plenty of deer, grouse, partridge and other 
game as well as moose. 

Law off in Maine October 15th 

Our books, " Directory of Guides " and 
"Fish and Game Country" contain a list 
of guides that know every nook and 
crook in the woods. Sent 
for 4 cents in stamps. 



Address 

"Where to Go" 

Division 

North Station, Boston 



$fe§ 




'^Z-Z&.SXilP* 



In writing advertisers please mention NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




October Gold 




Fall colfing among the New Hampshire Hills 




» Mount Doublehead, New Hampshire 




Country road at Jefferson Meadows 







The old well by the road 




Photograph by Purdy 



Mary Boyle O'Reilly 



New England Magazine 



Vol. XLIII 



OCTOBER, 1910 



Number 2 



The Daughters of Herod 



A PLEA FOR CHILD-SAVING LEGISLATION IN NEW HAMPSHIRE 
By MARY BOYLE O'REILLY 

(Trustee of the Children's Institutions Department of Boston) 

I 



THE investigation of which this 
is the report was carried on in 
fidelity to a promise made a 
dying girl who learned tpo late — 
at twenty-three — how bitter and pain- 
filled the life could prove that promised 
to be so merry. In the background 
of that broken life hovered the ap- 
pealing memory of a little lost baby 
who is supposed to have died untimely 
while in the keeping of a baby-farmer. 
And the girl mother, making all haste to 
join her loved one, pleaded that for her 
dead child's sake other deserted children 
might be better protected. 

If, in the statements that must be made 
there be some that shock or startle those 
fortunate women whom a kindly fate has 
guarded from the stress of life, let such 
remember that the day has come when 
mature women must be cognizant of cer- 
tain grim social facts that every woman 
may be equipped to act as a vigilance 
committee for every infant, child and 
girl. 

Because public-spirited citizens of 
Nashua, and state officials of New 
Hampshire have signified their intention 
of utilizing the evidence lying behind this 
report, because even a baby-farmer is 
assumed to be innocent until proven' 



guilty ; because a series of court cases 
must not be jeopardized by an untimely 
publicity of details the houses dealt with 
in this investigation will not be desig- 
nated by street name and number, but 
rather will be distinguished according to 
their location as "The House on the 
River," "The House by the Ravine," 
"The House in the Quiet Street." These 
several places are known in Nashua, and 
will be recognized readily by the troubled 
towns folk to whom their existence has 
long been an infamy. 

A certain grim New England courage 
clangs in the unflinching frankness with 
which the denizens of one highland city 
intend to deal with the shame that has 
been thrust upon them. Voicing the 
sentiment of his fellow-citizens Mayor 
Shedd, of Nashua, writes under date of 
August first. 

August 1, 1910. 
Miss Mary Boyle O'Reilly, 

Children's Institution Department, 
Boston. 

My dear Miss O'Reilly: — 

Since our talk of the investigation 
which you are making in Nashua of the 
baby farms which now exist, I wish to 



138 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



say, as chief executive of the city, that 
you have my heartiest co-operation and 
assistance : that I have already instructed 
Superintendent Snow of the Woodlawn 
Cemetery to give you what data will be 
serviceable to you. 

This matter has long given me grave 
concern and I hope that when your in- 
vestigation comes to be reported you will 
make that report a scorcher, and give to 
it the widest publicity, if for no other 
reason than the honor of Nashua. 
Very sincerely yours, 
ALBERT SHEDD, Mayor of Nashua. 
***** 

For years the social students appointed 
to the New Hampshire State Board of 
Charity and Correction have noted with 
deepening anxiety the steady increase of 
stranger children in the State's villages 
and towns. For years they have realized 
the reason for this pitiable influx into the 
population, and have tried to bring about 
such legislative enactments as would 
minimize the danger to defenceless child- 
hood, and the branding of well inten- 
tioned communities. But the only New 
Hampshire law concerning lying-in- 
hospitals is An Act in relation to the 
transfer and adoption of children. (Ap- 
proved April 9, 1909.) A copy of this 
law is sent to persons maintaining lying- 
in-hospitals, and they are notified to 
comply with its requirements. The 
theory is excellent, but the fact remains 
that such houses of refuge are often con- 
ducted by self-interested and unscrupul- 
ous persons — even by nurses in bad 
standing, and physicians from whom the 
State Board of Medicine has taken their 
certificates of registration ; and any law 
unsupported by the inspection that makes 
it a vital force soon becomes a dead letter. 

Tn New Hampshire today, for instance 

THERE TS NO LAW ORDAINING 
THAT LYING-IN-HOSPITALS BE 
LICENSED. 

Thus any one owning an empty barn 
may take such pitiful patients without 
fear of inspection or supervision. 

In New Hampshire, today, there is no 
law decreeing that boarding houses for 
placed out infants and young children be 
licensed, or the number taken in such 
houses be limited. 



As a result any man or woman, thrifty 
or pauperized, healthy or diseased, 
worthy or degenerate, may open their 
houses or their hovels to unprotected, 
often — alas — unwanted — children ; taking 
o live intimately, perhaps in one five room 
cottage, a very crowd of boys and girls, 
good, bad, and between the two. The 
Act of April 9, 1909, decreed, (Section 
1.) "That if any new born child un- 
claimed by its parent or parents, shall be 
given out for adoption by the manager of 
any maternity home, notice of said dis- 
position of such child shall, within five 
days, be given the State Board of 
Charity ;" which has, under section 2, of 
the same act, "jurisdiction and authority 
to inquire into such disposition and 
revoke the action of said managers if 
they deem best." 

This Act, in Section 3, fixed the pen- 
alty for unwarranted adoptions, but gave 
the State officials whom it burdened 
neither men nor monies to see that its 
provisions were carried out. Despite this 
heavy handicap Secretary William J. 
Ahern, watchful of the dangers of the 
situation, is doing all that he can in a 
whole-hearted endeavor to cover the nine 
thousand square miles within the un- 
guarded boundaries of the State. 

That the Law of 1909 was, and is, a 
dead letter can be proven by the "For 
Adoption" advertisements in most of the 
important papers in New Hampshire and 
Massachusetts, advertisements in which 
babies, tiny defenceless babies, sometimes 
still unborn, are openly advertised as if 
on sale for the board that is due ; or to 
be taken and disposed of "in a happy 
home" for the practically uniform charge 
of $50 a waif ! New Hampshire is not 
alone in this infamous barter in babies ; 
Nashua is not more blamable than many 
— alas, very many, Northern New Eng- 
land towns. But the statisticians tell us 
that Boston with its six hundred thou- 
sand inhabitants practically equals the 
entire population of Maine ; that the 
whole State of New Hampshire has not 
twice as many people as live and work in 
the nearby cities of Lowell, Lawrence 
and Haverhill. Through Nashua runs 
the main line of railway from Boston to 
Montreal, another main line from 



THE DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 



139 




From a photograph by the author 



The valley of lost babies 



Worcester to Portland, still another from 
Keene to Boston. The six trunk lines 
focusing at the Union Station carry all 
the world to Nashua, and what Nashua 
thinks and plans to the larger world. To 
every industrial centre in the Sister Com- 



monwealths where eager, pleasure-loving, 
ardent youth struggles against hard con- 
ditions ; often underfed, cruelly worked, 
morally overstrained, these suggestive 
debasing advertisements ''For Adoption 
at Birth, Full Surrender, No Questions 



140 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Asked," point a devil's finger to the 
easiest way. Where the victims lie wait- 
ing, nearby will be found the vampires. 
For one work-broken mother, or fright- 
ened girl, who could find time and money 
and courage to carry her child so far as 
Portland, or Montpelier, at least twenty 
would be tempted from the thronging in- 
dustrial centres of the Merrimac Valley 
to venture the cheap trolley-ride to 
Nashua. Only four miles from the 
Massachusetts State line, four miles 
beyond the pale of certain beneficent and 
protecting laws that safeguard infancy, 
supervise childhood and protect young 
girls there exist flagrant evils so insidious 
and deadly as to seem incredible; black 
wrong doing going on unhampered the 
while would-be reformers watch hope- 
less. 



THE CITY AND ITS CITIZENS 

NASHUA, the second city in the 
Granite State, lying at the junc- 
tion of two rivers whose com- 
bined currents put heart into the 
mill wheels and spindles, has a population 
of 25,000 people. The Nashua River 
joins its waters to the broad, still Mer- 
rimac on the North side ; the railways 
for Northern New England have great 
freight yards along the Eastern border ; 
the deep channelled stream called Salmon 
Brook marks the city's Western border, 
and at the Northern, the Eastern and the 
Western gates are set lodgings for un- 
wanted children, pitfalls for tottering or 
too-trusting feet. 



* 



* 



The little brick City Hall, with its high 
granite stoop and its wrought iron re- 
viewing balcony, was apparently deserted 
when the investigator first went there. 
Only the city messenger, "John," silent, 
intelligent, active of boot and brain, 
waited in the corridor for the order that 
would send him with a message to the 
Fire Commissioner at his bank; or the 
Commissioner of Public Works in his 
insurance office. On a door to the right 
of the main entrance appeared the 
legend : 



Mayor's Office. 
Overseer of the Poor. 

A pleasant, old-world reminder of the 
time when the chief executive was, by 
right of office, the official father of the 
people. 

In the double office, beside a telephone 
from which he received and distributed 
calls, a hale young man of sixty-odd 
fanned himself with a big Panama hat. 
Portly, white haired and white bearded, 
his cheeks boyishly pink, his dark brows 
and eyes still youthful, he was — for the 
moment — to his own amused satisfaction, 
the entire city government of Nashua. 
"May I see General Cross, please?" asked 
the investigator in the doorway. 

Instantly the personified City Govern- 
ment of Nashua was on his feet, his 
supple back bending, "Ira Cross is at 
your service, Madam ;" tone and bearing 
hinted of Virginia in 1861. Briefly the 
investigator stated the problem and the 
investigation to follow. "Try to be 
patient with us," pleaded the Overseer, 
"we suspect the existence of the condi- 
tions you name but hardly know where to 
find the remedy. I can imagine how this 
must sound to you coming from a big 
city. But here we are yet helpless. In 
New Hampshire there are no laws 
against baby farms for us to enforce. 
Without such, the wanton investigation 
of houses that your friends own, is hard 
indeed. We are all neighbors in these 
old towns. That is one reason why I like 
my position better than some other offices. 
At least folks don't look frightened to see 
me drop in. It's all giving, no taking, 
with an Overseer of the Poor. Now take 
the Board of Health for instance. Of 
course it's different in a big city. There 
the ordinances are enforced by strangers 
on strangers. Then consider Nashua. 
When you know to a cent what your old 
friend's widow has to live on it hurts to 
make her spend $100 on plumbing she 
can do without in her own house. I tell 
you, Madam, that's hard." 

The investigator nodded appreciation. 
Not every city, little or big, has such a 
Provider for the Poor. 

Next moment a gentleman entered 



THE DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 



141 



noiselessly, spare, gray-faced, grave and 
a little stern, his manner that of a man 
who has made his way in the larger 
world, and has come home — at last — to 
rest. "You wished to see me?" he asked, 
"J am Mister — " 

But the Overseer of the Poor inter- 
cepted, "Allow me," he said in that Vir- 
ginia manner, "to introduce to you His 
Honor, Mayor Shedd, of Nashua." 

"And 1 I," explained the investigator, 
"am a trustee for children from Massa- 
chusetts. Here are my credentials. I 
come to consult you about — about." 

"Yes, I know. Of course, I know. 
You are looking up our baby-farms. 
They shame us every day — almost every 
hour. My good lady, you are welcome. 
We will help you in any way in our 
power. General, let us come into my 
office." 

Then we talked long and earnestly, 
going over the situation in all its phases, 
examining, eliminating, studying the 
possibilities of procedure. With the vigor 
and simplicity of a young man Mayor 
Shedd strode forth and back to his office, 
carryingcard catalogues of burial permits, 
directories, statistics. With the minute 
information that grows from long years 
of service to the poor Overseer Ira 
Cross interjected details of locality, 
sanitary conditions and family relations. 
At last the investigator rose, while both 
men protested helplessly, even as they 
acknowledged that she must, of course, 
make the preliminary investigation alone. 
"Do not think too hardly of us," said the 
Mayor, standing on the steps of City Hall 
in the attitude of a courteous host. "We 
realize these conditions and would gladly 
correct them. But the law gives us no 
support. The so-called baby farms of 
Massachusetts, speaking legally, would 
not be baby farms in New Hampshire. 
When an Infant's Life Protection Act is 
drafted and passed you may trust my 
fellow-citizens to see that here it will be 
enforced. Meantime call on this admin- 
istration for any assistance we can give. 
In this matter we are entirely at your ser- 
vice." 

It is not every chief executive who 
faces a bad situation so honestly. 

Bravo, Mayor Shedd. 



STRANGERS AND WAY FARERS 

THE woman whose trail first led 
the writer of this report to 
Nashua is a stranger and a way- 
farer in that city. Mrs.G , or 

as she also signs her name, Mrs. E , is 

not only a mystery to her Nashua neigh- 
bors she seems to be a mystery to herself. 
"So far as her memory serves," she says 
that she came from Boston in April, 1910, 
where she lived at 67 W. Canton Street. 
But the Captain of Division 5, Boston 
Police, and the City Directory, take issue 
with this statement declaring that no such 
person lived at 65-67 W. Canton Street in 

1909. On second thoughts Mrs. G 

stated that she came to Nashua from 25 
Orange Street, Woburn, in the Spring of 

1910. But again the authorities prove 
troublesome, for Chief of Police Charles 
F. McDermott insists that she did not 
live at that number, and that no one in 
the vicinity recalls Mrs. Annie, or Sarah 
G ■. From the description given how- 
ever, patrolmen and neighbors recognize 

one Mrs. M , who did live in 

Woburn. The third name of E , so 

familiar to Nashua people was, apparent- 
ly, not associated with her until Mrs. 

G . - M moved into her present 

house on Chestnut Street, whose previous 

tenant, a Mrs. E , was an old 

fashioned monthly nurse. 

This puzzling identity becomes of 
considerable importance when it is re- 
membered that Mrs. M - G - 

E is the sole guardian of practically 

abandoned children whose comfort and 
very lives depend entirely on her good 
will ; and whose future prospects or 
hopes of remaining in connection with 
their kindred, are identified with being 
able to locate their guardian. The 
woman's husband is only less of a mys- 
tery than his helpmate. In 1905 a L 

G , teamster, lived at Trumbull 

Street, Boston, a paved alley of the 
South End, in a house since demolished 
by the insurance companies as a fire trap. 

The L G who lived in Woburn 

was, the police say, a gentleman of 

leisure. The L G who now 

lives in Nashua makes no secret, say the 
neighbors, of the — to him — enviable fact 



142 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



that "he does not have to work for a 
living," owing to his wife's industry in 
boarding babies; a profession so lucrative 
that Mr. G claims to have occasion- 
ally realized $75 in two days. Again let 



it be remembered that this man, with his 
background and his habits ; his standards 
of living and his views of right and 
wrong, is practically the arbiter in the 
lives of dozens of worse than orphaned 







I rota a photograph by the autli 



At the foot of the precipice 



THE DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 



143 



children. For there seems to be no limit 
to the pitiful procession of nurslings car- 
ried into the house of Mrs. M 

G E . The woman is a constant 

and familiar advertiser in the leading 
papers of Boston, Providence, Manches- 
ter and Lowell, modestly omitting her 
name at times hut giving always the num- 
ber of her domicile. Either she "offers 
home to those wishing a hoarding place 
for infants and children," or else she 
"offers for adoption, or full surrender, 
Blonde, Black-eyed, Health}' or Pretty 
Babies." Curiously enough there are far 
fewer boys than girls waiting for this hit- 
or-miss parentage. "Girls are more tak- 
ing," says Mrs. M ( J E 

with oily suavity ; also, — but this she does 
not say, — old nurses hold that girl babies 
are tougher in bearing hardships, while 
boy-babies succumb and die. 

Sometimes these glib advertisements 
cover more than strikes the eye. For 
instance : On July 25, 1910, in a letter to 
a "Mrs. Sullivan," verifying her then 
recent offering of human livestock, Mrs. 

M G E listed "A Two 

Weeks Old Blonde Baby Curl, and also a 
dark-eyed baby girl one month old ; both 
strong, and healthy, and pretty." But 
the fortnight old baby-girl, tiny Josephine 
Keough, died two days later of a wasting 
sickness, as her burial permit will prove ; 
and the little dark-eyed baby slipped 
away even before the advertisement was 

printed. Under pressure Mrs. M 

G - E confessed that the v\ ee 

one had been very ill from Sunday to 
Friday without seeing a doctor, during 
which time "she changed its food three 
times." Yet so far and wide do such 
luring offers carry that only two months 
since a despairing woman journeyed to 
Nashua with her four-year-old, placed 
the little one in the House of Forgotten 
Children, and was forced by poverty to 
ask shelter for herself at the Police 
Station. There she told her story to 
Police Commissioner James B. Crowley, 
one of the three of four men in Nashua 
who know the inside of the "Babies' 
House," and when, next day, that broken- 
hearted mother, now calmed and again 
her better self, took train for Boston a 
merrv little four-vear-old went with her. 



But the -Indent of human nature will 
learn most of this puzzling personality 
Ironi the woman's own letters. Hers IS 
a mail-order business, and though she 
writes with obvious difficulty Mrs. 

M (i E — is certainly an 

Industrious correspondent. For two 
weeks last July she was in practically 
constant communication with five asso- 
ciate workers of the Children's [nstitu- 
tion Department of Boston, each of 
whom was anxious to board out, or 
barter, "her baby." 

A series of letters, say the psychol- 
ogists, is almost always an interesting 
human document. The originals of the 
letters that follow are considered valu- 
able enough for a place in the collection 
of Hon. Edwin G. Eastman, Attorney- 
General of the Sovereign State of New 
I lampshire. The first letter is a decoy, 

which Mrs. G E might 

well have stereotyped to save herself un- 
necessary labor. 

Undated, but postmarked, 

Nashua, N. H., July 5, 1910. 
M. O. Riley, 39 Eliot Street. Jamaica 

Plain, Mass. 
Mrs Riley Dear Friend 

I receved your letter and reply will 
say that T take Infants from Berth up 
and keep them in my own home untill 
I place them in a good home and my 
terms is fifty Dollars and If you can't 
pay the fifty cash you can Pay thirty- 
five Dollars and the Balance weekly 
no matter how long I keep the child this 
cuvers all expanses and you will never be 
troubled zvith the child after T take full 
charge of It untill I have it adopted in a 
good home you will have to give up full 
surrender to me and sign Papper in my 
house. 

If you don't . want to come yourself 
you can send the child and the money 
with some friends and I can send 'the 
Papper through the mail and you can 
sent it back to me. If you bring the baby 
send what clothes its got also coat and 
Bonnett wish I suppose you have already 
goat. If you have not got coat or Bon- 
nett rapped it up in a shawl and Balanket 
You can take the train for Nashua at the 
North Station track 16 Southern Division 



144 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



fare 78c takes one hour and 20 minutes. 
I is all private you wont see anybody but 
mvself. I remain yours truly, 

MRS. E 

Chestnut Street, Nashua, > T . H. 

Assured that her "secret" was in such 
safe keeping, VM. O. Riley" began to 
barter about price, giving what her 
vanity considered fine literary touches to 
the appealing letters she sent to Nashua. 

But Mrs. M G E was 

not to be influenced by mere pity for a 
broken-hearted girl. Witness the follow- 
ing: 

Nashua, July 8, 1910. 
M. O. Riley, 

Dear Madam : — ■ 

Yours receved and in answer will say 
that thirty Dollars is a small amaunt for 
taking a child of corse I will have to 
doctor it and the care I will have to give 
it night and day and it might be sick on 
my hands all Summer and me have to 
pay the cost of a doctor and If it dont 
Live I would have to pay the undertaker. 
I will take It for Thirty five dollars and 
the Balance weekly 2.00 a W T eek. If 
everything is alright you coud send It 
with your friend whenever you a re ready. 
I remain Yours truly, 

MRS. E , 

C Street, Nashua, N. H. 

As the correspondence continued a 
more cordial relation was established, 
and when, on July. 20, the final move was 
made Mrs.M G E wrote: 

Nashua, July 20, 1910. 
Mrs. Riley — Dear Friend 

Yours receved and enclosed please find 
Papper also please bring what clothes 

the baby has and oblige Mrs. E 

Chestnut Street, Nashua, N. H. 

P. S. Bring the baby as soon as you 
want two and the fifty dollars covers all 
expenses and / wont trouble you if you 
dont trouble me about the child. Papper 

enclosed. 

* * * * * 

Nashua, July, 1910. 
To who this may Con sera I the Under- 



signed do on this date give my child 

Full Surrender to Mrs. L E that 

she may find a good home for It and I 
will never trouble any one hearafter 
about it. 

Signed, MRS. L E 

Now the State of New Hampshire has, 
of course, some pretty rigid laws govern- 
ing the adoption of children, and a Peti- 
tion for Adoption to the Honorable 
Judge of Probate for the County of 
Hillsborough is a far different document 
than that soiled and torn sheet of un- 
dated paper on which the unwitnessed 
signature is worthless. 

If the woman who wrote that paper 
did not know it to be illegal then she is 
obviously unfit to have the care and 
placing out of children. If she did know 
it then the final clause in her letter of 
July 20 is a covert threat. 

And while the letter was on its way she 
was again busy writing two other Bos- 
ton women — each of whom wanted to 
"adopt" a baby — women of whom, of 
course she knew nothing, since (the list 
of available addresses being exhausted) 
these letters were sent to the General 
Delivery. 

The State Law of N. H. approved by 
the Legislature April 9, 1909: 

Section I. That if any new-born child 
unclaimed by its parent, or parents shall 
be given out for adoption by the manager 
of any maternity home, notice of said 
disposition of such child shall, within 
five days be given to the State Board of 
Charity. 

Under date of August 11, 1910, Mr. 
William J. Ahern, Secretary of the State 
Board of Charity and Corrections at 
Concord, writes that he knows, and has 

visited the home of Mrs. G , at 

Nashua, and considers it "unsuitable in 
every way." The woman claims to have 
placed out but two children since her 
arrival in Nashua in April, 1910: one 
child in Roxbury, Mass., the other child 
in Hillsborough, N. H." 

It is matter of common knowledge in 
the West End of Nashua that the house 
on Chestnut Street swarms with children 



THE DATUM ERS I >F HEROD 



145 



whose numbers are added to weekly. 
Always they come and come, and rarely 
— very rarely — are they carried away. 

I f Mrs. M G E 's state- 
ment to the Secretary of the State Board 
of Charity be true it is time that some 
one demanded in the name of the law 
Where all the other babies have gone'? 

Think of the needless misery of it, the 
purposeless suffering, the hopelessly 
broken or lost lives of hapless little vic- 
tims ! And all because there is no 
Infants' Life Protection Act ! 

On July 7, 1910, according to Mrs. 

M G E 's statement to 

Overseer Ira Cross, she was boarding six 
children whose names and addresses she 
gave. But the two families of the three 
children said to come from Somerville, 
Mass., could not be traced by Somerville 
Overseers of the Poor (July 19, 1910) ; 
and the baby said to belong in Stoughton 
had, apparently, (on July 27, 1910) no 
relatives in that town. Assuming that 

Mrs. M G - E stated their 

names and addresses correctly (she 
claimed to have no record book save for 
board money) four of those six children 
were, to all intents and purposes, little 
derelicts. The tiniest two, however, lost 
scant time in drifting helplessly for they 
went quite peacefully and uncomplaining, 
"to the good home" that unwanted babies 
so often find for themselves. On July 10, 
1910, just three days after Overseer 
Cross' official visit Dr. William Shea, one 
of the leading Catholic physicians of 
Nashua, found that the heart-breaking 
household had been increased by two, 
there being eight babies, three children 
about ten, and three adults in the five 
room cottage. This horrified physician, 
hastily called because of an emergency, 
"found one infant actually dying, all the 
others sick and likely to die, not a healthy 
child in the house. "The place swarmed 
with flies and there was an entire ab- 
sence of all care!" Although the doc- 
tor's visit was to the actually dying baby 
and did not, speaking professionally, in- 
clude the others, he soon received two 
death certificates which he was asked to 
sign. A few days later came two more, 
"because he had seen the wee waifs as he 
walked through the crowded rooms." 



Needless to say \)v. Shea indignantly 
refused to be involved in such a plan, 
and the nurse of transient infants, equal- 
ly indignant, now sends for another 
physician to meet the constantly recur- 
ring "emergencies." 

To the credit of their manhood be it 
said most of the undertakers of Nashua 
have been almost equally obstructive. It 
seems so preposterous, so utterly absurd, 
to consider such grim subjects in connec- 
tion with brand-new babies ; and yet, the 
wee wailing things whose eyes are only 
useful for tears, slip very willingly into 
the valley of the shadow. 

When tiny Nellie Ryan decided on 
July 24, 1910, that four weeks of this 
lonely world was all she wanted, a man 
who said his name was L G ap- 
pealed, as his fate would have it, to 
Messrs. P. Barry & Co., one of the oldest 
undertaking firms in the city, stipulating 
a pauper burial. To this Mr. Barry would 
not agree. "It was not money he wanted, 
but the poor baby must have a proper 
coffin. That would cost $5. The rest 
would be his free gift." Hardly a fort- 
night had passed since Mrs. M 

G E received the baby and at 

least some part of the $50 that consti- 
tuted its patrimony ; but now there was 
no money to pay for its tiny casket ! 
Grim things to dwell upon, these; ay, 
grim beyond tears ; but without the tell- 
ing there will be no remedy ; and the 
price of silence will be paid in baby lives. 

THE NETS OF FATE 

IN the irony of fate it is by their 
own advertisements that the baby 
farmers under investigation have 
been traced through their hegiras. 
In the column headed Miscellaneous, 
sometimes listed with the Live Stock or 
Wogglebugs, more often under "For 
Adoption," one finds the offerings of the 
conscienceless men and women who are 
manifestly willing to hand over helpless 
infants to starvation and neglect. The 
wording of these notices in Massachu- 
setts papers is usually more guarded, less 
openly of money and more of love and 
care. But the phraseology never varies. 
Whatever else these iniquitous women 
may possess, imagination is not part of 



146 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



their birthright. 

"A Refined Lady has been seeking to 
adopt infant on Day of Birth" since 
1905, and the addresses so recklessly 
given have put this writer in direct 
communication with five different Chiefs 
of Police. From now on it will be safe to 
assume that the "Lady" who offers an 
over-young infant for adoption is secret- 
ly connected with an unlicensed hospital, 
and her case should be promptly called to 
the attention of the Postal authorities. 
That a class'of persons closely approxim- 
ating the criminal are ready to "take 
chances" with a stranger baby is a dread- 
ful fact. Whether the incentive is the 
bonus often offered ; the larger possibility 
of child-insurance ; or the less apparant 
worth-while-ness of speculating in a 
child's life cannot yet be exactly deter- 
mined. 

A two line decoy advertisement of 

"A Blue Eyed Baby, 2 weeks old, to 
be given for adoption, full surrender, 
bonus of $50, 

inserted in one paper on July 29, brought 
at once twenty-seven responses from all 
over Northern New England. With 
equal celerity twenty-seven Boards of 
Selectmen, or Overseers of the Poor, 
were consulted in regard to the character 
and standing of the writers. One of 
these was found to be a partially unbal- 
anced old woman ; one an intemperate 
widow ; two the mothers of families who 
had appealed for outdoor relief ; one a 
fairly promising applicant "who only 
wanted the infant for an anonymous 
friend," and two were women whose 
licenses to board children had been with- 
drawn for grave reasons by the State 
Board of Charity. Of the remaining 
twenty applicants, or more than two- 
thiids of the total, not a single person 
could he found in their respective towns: 
their names were not listed ; the addresses 
given were false; even the local police, 
who co-operated in the search, could not 
hazard a guess at their identity. One 
shrinks instinctively from considering 
the mysterious fate of unprotected babes 
consigned to the care of foster parents 
who realized the prudence of assuming 
an alias. Here is a typical report: 



Police Department, 
Gloucester, August 8, 1910. 
"I have made inquiries into the cir- 
cumstances and condition of Mrs. of 

Street, this city," wrote the City 



Marshal of Gloucester, "and learn that 
she is a woman over seventy years old. 
So far as 1 can discover she has no in- 
come whatever. I think the offer of $50 
in the advertisement was the cause of her 
answering it. 

Very truly yours, 
CHARLES S. MARCHANT, 

City Marshal." 

One of the good and gracious things 
about the investigation that has proved so 
tragic is the hearty, unquestioning co- 
operation of the local authorities. 
Catholic priests, Protestant ministers, 
Selectmen, Overseers of the Poor, Police 
officials laid down their own work to give 
time and care and the weight of their 
authority to securing the desired inform- 
ation. 

If this investigation be any criterion, 
the amount of disinterested, unacknowl- 
edged social work done by the Boards of 
Selectmen and the Overseers of the 
Poor of New England towns is simply 
amazing. In answer to the almost five 
hundred letters sent out by the writer 
scores of reports were returned ; shrewd, 
observant, practical reports of local con- 
ditions ; never once — let the words be 
written in italics for emphasis — never 
once in all that number a careless, carp- 
ing or ill judged statement! Even in 
these days of strain or stress the town 
governments of New England are stand- 
ing the test. 

On August seventh two other decoy 
advertisements were published, one of 
which offered full surrender of a new- 
born baby together with a bonus of $100. 
Ninety-two answers were received at 
once, of which six — think of the unutter- 
able horror of it — six men or women in 
New England were interested in supply- 
ing babies to an unknown "Doctor" for 
$25 aoiece ! 

Within twenty-four hours ninety-two 
sources of local authoritv were appealed 
to. Work? Of course it was work: hut 
the associate workers of Boston's Chil- 



THE DAUGHTERS OE HEROD 



147 



dren's Institution Department were eager 
for results. No need to urge their co- 
operation ; to enlarge upon the duty of 
interstate help fullness. Bound to their 
department duties from nine until rive 
they yet gave gladly, eagerly, generously 
of their limited leisure; writing decoy 
letters, searching directories, making 
inquiries ; in a word sharing the slow 
foundation-tasks on which an investiga- 
tion must he hased. To these depart- 
ment associates — practical social work- 
ers — no lengthy explanations were neces- 
sary to clarify an involved situation — a 
word, even a hint, was enough. 

When the Mayor of Nashua came to 
the office of the Children's Trustees for a 
clinching interview, Miss Grace S. 
Hoogs, Miss Lillian R. Carney, Miss 
Violet Mclntyre, Miss Julia V. Driscoll 
and Mr. George F. Mulchacy, everyone 
too busy for speech, yet recognized with 
silent satisfaction that the coil was tight- 
ening at last. 

Across the Board Room table, when 
office hours were over the ninety-two 
letters were studied. Not only in New 
Hampshire must a new child-saving law 
be passed : Even Massachusetts is not 
yet ready to cope with the "For Adop- 
tion" advertisements. Once the subject 
is presented to the proprietors of reput- 
able newspapers with all its hideous pos- 
sibilities, there will be an end, swift and 
sure, to the column "For Adoption." The 
journalists of the country silently do so 
much to protect public honor and public 
decency that no one can believe this evil 
would continue had the matter been 
brought to their attention. It is the old, 
old, story of thoughtless boy clerks who 
count words they do not read and file the 
advertisement. 

But to strengthen the stand of the 
reputable journals, to rebuke the care- 
less and to constrain the unscrupulous, 
the women of New England should see 
to it that the incoming Legislatures of 
their several States draft and pass an act 
forbidding altogether advertisements of 
this character, making it the business of 
some public official to see that this law 
is enforced. 

Who, for instance, but a public official, 
could so quickly get at the facts behind 



these applications for a baby: On July 
14 — Mrs. Laura Whipple, ol 20 Lothrop 
Street, Taunton, "wanted to come for the 
baby herself/' 

Report from Taunton : "1 am unable 
to find any 20 Lothrop Street, or any 
Mrs. Laura Whipple: J think that it is 
an assumed name. Harry L. Blood, 
Chief of Police." 

On August 7— Mrs. C. A. B. of Mall 
Avenue, W. Somerville, appealed for a 
foster baby. 

Report of August 10: "We cannot 
find any one who knows such a person." 
Selectmen of West Somerville. 
***** 

August 7— Mrs. B. C. A. of — boro ; 
claiming to be a nurse with a good home 
is anxious to take the child. 

Report of August 11: "The State 

Board of Charity withdrew this woman's 

license three years ago for persistently 

refusing to obey the laws in relation to 

taking children to board." 

James E. Fee, Secretary. 
***** 

August 7— Mrs. A. B. C, 39 Cedar 
Street, Maiden, claims to have a good 
home — wants baby. 

Report of August 8 : "There is no 39 
Cedar Street, and we find no Mrs. A. B. 
C. in that vicinity." 

Charles Lincoln, 
Clerk of Board of Health. 
***** 

August 8, 1910— Mrs. C. B. A., of 
Kennebunk, Me., writes "that she and 
her husband are well to do, Americans 
and church members. We would take 
your baby and give it a good home." 

Report from Kennebunk. Me., August 
10: "We certainly cannot certify that 
this apolicaut is a proper person to have 
care of any child. This family is being 
assisted by the Town now." 

A. A. Richardson. 
Chairman of Selectmen. 
***** 

On Tuly 15 — Mrs. C. B. A. writes from 
Bradfort. Vt. : "Would be awful glad to 
take the baby girl and give it best of care 
and education. We could do this being 
well situated." 

Report from Bradford. Vt. Alienist 4: 
"We suggest that these people had better 



148 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



not take any children until better able to 
take care of themselves." 

John C. Strong, 
N. W. Cunningham, 
Selectmen of Bradford, Vermont. 



On August 8, 1910, in a well written 
letter, Mrs. B. B. B. of Attleboro, Mass., 
states that "She and her husband are 
Americans, Protestants. We have no 
child of our own and want a little one to 
love." 

Report from Attleboro Investigator, 
August 10: 'The writer is a poor 
woman with a poor home. Generally 
considered to be mentally peculiar." 



August 8, 1910— Mrs. C. C. C. of 
Baldwinsville, Mass., writes that she is 
able to "Guarantee good care. Have a 
nice home in country and want an heir 
for my property." 

Report from Baldwinsville, Mass., 
August 11, 1910: "No,"— with the 
emphasis of a startling explanation. 
H. H. Hammond, 
Clerk of Board of Selectmen. 



This grim list shows what a score of 
lurid little tragedies might have occurred 
here in New England within the last few 
weeks. Even granting that worthy 
adoptive parents were willing to go into 
the open market in search of the little 
children previously denied them, this 
hap-hazard handing about of wee waifs 
who so seldom realize their own identity 
is a grave evil. The unrecorded child is 
the practically lost child, for in the best 
of households newer guardians, change 
of location, the differences that grow with 
the years, are as weeds on a trail. 

We do not transfer property without 
recording a deed, why are living chil- 
dren — with the future all before them — 
considered of less moment to the com- 
munity interest When the campaign 
for children (of which this investigation 
is only one plea"! shall have been fought 
and won. God grant that it may be law 
in New Hampshire that every infant un- 
der two years old boarded apart from its 



parents, and not with relatives, shall be 
under the direct supervision of the public 
authorities, and its transfer — even from 
one house to the next — must be formally 
reported to the State Board of Charity 
within three days. Every child under 
fourteen, entirely abandoned should have 
provided by the judge of the Probate a 
person who shall be held responsible for 
its care and custody. Under this Chil- 
dren's Charter it will be unlawful for any 
person not qualified by appointment or 
official position to place out, or board out 
a child ; and even those having such 
authority may only select as a boarding- 
house some home or family duly licensed 
by the State Board of Charity, which 
shall have power to appoint investigators 
of all such homes, together with official 
visitors for all such placed out children. 
Also, the boarding home of each child 
shall be a matter of record in the State 
Board of Charity, together with the 
reports of its physical, mental and moral 
development and all the information 
procurable about the child's family or 
history. 

In these enlightened days it goes almost 
without saying that, whenever practic- 
able, every child boarded out shall be 
placed with individuals of like religious 
faith as the parents of the child. It is 
not for State officials to make their 
wards, Catholics, Protestants or Jews ; 
but they are morally bound to see to it 
that the children committed to their care 
have every opportunity to grow up good 
Catholics, good Protestants, and good 
Jews. 

For the Children's Charter assumes 
that the boarded out child will live to 
groiv up. Assumes, remember, and plans 
to safe-guard that up bringing. But the 
unwelcome child, whatever its appear- 
ance of health, is most often a weakling; 
pale, ill-nourished, lacking in stamina and 
endurance ; feeble, immature, often the 
victim of unfavorable heredity; surely 
the inheritor of uncertain fate. 

The baby-farmer speaks grim truth 
when she declares that it is "happier 
dead." And the little waif, as if con- 
scious that it is born wrone. frequently 
loses no time in making its piteous exit. 
(To be continued.) 



Virtue by Vultures 

By JUDGE HENRY AUSTIN 



IT was a wonderful morning of cool, 
purple shadows under the great 
trees that everywhere overhung in 
towering spaciousness the path by 
which we were climbing Malabar Hill. 
Behind us lay the turmoil — a picturesque, 
many-colored, Babel-tongued turmoil, to 
be sure — of early awakened Bombay. 

But now we were setting forth into 
another world, far from the jarring 
presence of great, rough-bearded Sikh 
policemen and of white-helmeted links 
in Britain's "far flung battle line." We 
had stepped from modern, well-regulated 
Bombay into the world of ancient India 
— the land of introspection and philoso- 
phy plus nature-worship run mad. 
Some such thoughts as these passed 
through my mind as we began to ascend 
the hill of Malabar in the early morning, 
even though I knew that in part, at least, 
of my speculations I should not include 
my companion. He, be it known in the 
beginning, was a Parsee gentleman who 
had kindly volunteered to show me the 
way. 

Since he was a Parsee and was lead- 
ing me to the most distinctive example of 
the practise of his religious beliefs, I 
should not have classed him, or his, with 
the native-born faiths of India. Those 
of his faith number to-day scarcely more 
than eighty thousand out of the teeming 
millions of the great peninsula ; there- 
fore they are merely a handful, although 
they are the wealthiest sect — the Roths- 
childs of the East. Also, they have been 
in India barely eight centuries and for 
that potent reason are still aliens, so to 
speak, in a land where a century counts 
less than a decade among western nations 
in the matter of social or economic 
change. 

These things I knew as my Parsee 
friend strode along- beside me and ex- 



plained that those of his faith were 
probably the first of all peoples to wor- 
ship a single God, and to insist that such 
a God, as the cause and origin of all 
things, could not be described or per- 
sonified. Hence, he said, the worship- 
pers had turned to a symbol and had 
selected Fire, some 3,000 years ago, as 
the most acceptable representation of 
brilliancy, power, beauty and vengeance. 
Somehow the well-balanced periods of 
this Parsee, an English university man 
and a scholar of repute, reminded me 
forcibly of certain explanations of doc- 
trine that I had heard on occasion from 
advanced clerical gentlemen in Boston 
and New York. For that reason, per- 
haps, I was not giving as close attention 
as I might to the discourse. It was 
reminiscent of the "higher criticism" in 
too many respects, and we were on our 
way to see one of the "Towers of 
Silence" — those great stone amphithe- 
atres in which the followers of this 
religion place their dead to be consumed 
by the elements or devoured by vultures. 
Yet the thought of what I had come to 
see was almost forgotten at times under 
the spell of the long, green vistas among 
the trees, whence the morning breeze 
brought puffs of faint perfume distilled 
from dew and tropic flowers. Likewise, 
the modulated English accent of this 
philosophic discourse on Parsee theology 
was of a sort to remove one's thoughts 
from morbid things. 

"Our prophet, Zoroaster," my friend 
was saying, "has taught us to regard all 
the elements as symbols of the Deity, and 
has ordained that Earth, Fire and Water 
shall never be defiled with anything 
putrefied. The bodies of our dead 
should be dissipated, therefore, as rapid- 
ly and hygienically as possible." What 
more he was about to say, I do not know. 

149 



150 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



At that moment I involuntarily uttered 
some exclamation of surprise and dis- 
gust, for as we swung around a slight 
turn in the path, we "flushed" five great, 
mangy-looking birds. We had almost 
stepped upon them before they rose — 
these heavy, blear-eyed creatures with 
their bare red throats and swollen crops. 
They flapped away lazily to a tree a scant 
fifty yards up the path, where they 
alighted with much clapping of their 
thick-quilled wings and scraping of their 
big, horny claws. From this vantage- 
point they gazed back at us, their heads 
tilted to one side and their blood-red 
eyes scanning us with no apparent fright 
or suspicion. 

I know that following my first unin- 
tentional, and possibly impolite, exclama- 
tion, I stood for some moments regard- 
ing these birds, for they were the first 
members I had seen of the crew of vul- 
tures that live by the Towers of Silence 
and subsist on human flesh. It may have 
been that I underwent a reaction from 



the enjoyment of the woodland stroll 
after the long, hot journey across India ; 
but I must confess that as I looked at 
those unclean birds I could not refrain 
from wondering what had been their 
latest meal — the meal from which they 
even then remained torpid in the lethargy 
of digestion. 

"Come ! Come !" said my companion, 
"Those are only creatures of the air sent 
by the Deity to do their ordained work, 
just as you and I are sent here to do 
ours." He seemed to know what my 
feelings were, but he did not then touch 
upon the quickest method of disposing 
of human clay. He talked of hygiene, 
and he talked well, citing ancient rights 
as precedents for measures which we 
Occidentals are complacently willing to 
believe have originated only by reason of 
the advance of modern science. He 
talked, too, of the glorious history of the 
Parsees, of their struggle to keep their 
faith in the face of Mohammed's hordes, 
and he recounted the Odyssey of their 







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Parsees going to worship the New Moon 






Copyright by Underwood and Underwood 

A WEALTHY PARSEE HOME, MALABAR HlLL. BOMBAY 



152 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copywright by Underwood anri Underwood 

P.XRSTIFS \VO"STl 1IMM SC \ THE SETTING OF THE SUN 



VIRTUE BY VULTURES 



53 




Copyright by Underwood and Underwood 

A Parsee schoolmaster and his class of boys 



migration from Persia to India some 
eight centuries past. 

But as he talked, my attention was dis- 
tracted, for we were advancing further 
and further into what seemed to be an 
undisturbed colony of vultures. They 
were perched in great hunched figures on 
the trees about us, the ground was white 
with their spoor, and occasionally 
through an open space in the roof of 
foliage they could be seen flying clumsily 
in twos and threes or in flocks of a dozen 
or more, as they wheeled slowly against 
the magnifying background of the deep 
blue Indian skv. Thev held a sort of 



horrible fascination for me, and though 
I tried to shake it off as childish. I could 
not restrain myself from wondering if 
these connoisseurs of human bodies were 
appraising us with critical eyes. This 
thought was in my mind when I looked 
down from watching an unusually large 
flock and saw ahead of us, at the end of 
a sharp rise and in an open space on the 
summit of the hill, a huge, circular 
structure of gray stone. My guide did 
not need to tell me ; this was the Tower 
of Silence. Strange as the comparison 
may seem under such circumstances, the 
thought occurred to me that it resembled 



154 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Malabar Hill, Bombay 



a great gas-tank, made of stone instead 
of red-painted sheet-iron. Or again, it 
reminded me of the Castle of San 
Angelo at Rome. 

I knew that I was being granted an 
extraordinary favor by being brought 
so close to one of the five Towers, but 
even this delicate compliment from my 
friend could do little toward taking my 
attention from the vultures, and as we 
drew nearer I noted that a veritable regi- 
ment of the birds was perched on the rim 
of the Tower. Still, I kept the neces- 
sarily unpleasant thoughts to myself and 
tried to forget the vultures as the affable 
Parsee led me off through the winding 
paths of an immense park and showed 
me a temple of his faith. Within it, he 
said, burned the sacred fire which many 
of his co-religionists believed had been 
kin riled by a coal from the fire that had 
first been lighted by Zoroaster. Owing 
to its sacred character, he told me, it 
could not be viewed by unbelievers, 
though an exception had 1> e^n made in 
the case of the late King Edward, who 



visited India when he was Prince of 
Wales. At that time, he had been per- 
mitted to see the gleam of the fire from 
a distance. 

All this was interesting, while the 
view of Bombay on the one hand and the 
Indian Ocean on the other made the trip 
well worth while up to this point. Yet I 
was impatient to learn more of the 
Towers of Silence, and I was rather un- 
expectedly pleased when we strolled back 
toward the great whitish-gray mass that 
once more began to loom up before us 
through the trees. As we came closer to 
it, my companion began very carefully to 
explain the methods of the disposition of 
the dead. I remember that we paused a 
few minutes by a clump of flowering 
shrubs while he showed me a plan of the 
drainage arrangements of the Tower. A 
reproduction of that map is presented 
herewith, and a study of it is remarkable, 
when one remembers that it represents a 
system of hygiene thousands of years old. 

"You understand," said the Parsee, 
"that we of the faith believe that we 



VIRTUE UY VULTURES 



155 



ought not to contaminate the earth, the 
air, water or lire. Therefore, to dispose 
of our bodies when the soul is removed 
and they are no longer useful, we have 
provided a quick method. You see by 
the plan that the interior of the Tower 
is arranged in three circles or receptacles. 
They are called 'pavis,' and the outer 
circle is for men, the next for women, 
and the innermost for children. The 
interior construction slopes downward 
toward the central well. After the crea- 
tures of the air have done their duty, 
these bones are gathered up and thrown 
into the central well." He paused a mo- 
ment to answer a question by saying that 
he was referring to the vultures first, and 
that the removal of the bones to the 
central well was done by "Nasr Salors," 
or "Carriers of the Dead," old men who 
work in couples and are assigned to toil 
side by side in each Tower of Silence. 
He took care to explain that they wore 
gloves and used tongs in their gruesome 
labors. Also, he wished to make it plain 
to me that from the time a person dies 
until his body is deposited naked in the 



"pavis/' tho.^c who handle the remains 
must go in pairs. Even the mourner- 
must appear in the same way, and none 
but the ordained "Xasr Salors" may 
touch a corpse. 

Evidently these details were not pleas- 
ant and he turned again eagerly to the 
plan of the ''Tower of Silence." lie 
pointed out that the central well which 
receives the drainage from the three rows 
of "pavis," as well as being a receptacle 
for the clean-picked bones, is drained in 
turn into four underground wells. 
These latter are actually filters of alter- 
nate layers of sand, charcoal, coarse 
gravel, fine gravel, sand and charcoal. I 
was amazed to hear this as being one of 
the essential principles of an ancient 
method of disposing of pollution. 

"Ah, yes, my dear sir!" said the 
Parsee with his pronounced university 
accent, "you see that filtration of sewage 
is not a new idea. Zoroaster preached it. 
We have done it ever since. The filter 
keeps pollution from the earth and when 
the rainy season washes down through 
the central pit of the Tower, the water 




Tower of Silence, Bombay 



156 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copyright by Underwood and Underwood 

Magnificent railway station at Bombay and Parsers praying in foreground 



that passes off through the drains into 
the wells, sinks into the earth and finds 
its way to the rivers, clean and undented. 
The Towers are all built that way, and 
now that European and American en- 
gineers are using filtration in the disposal 
of sewage, it seems as if our method has 
been adopted as sanitary." 

I fancied that there was just the 
slightest tinge of irony in this acknowl- 
edgement of recognition, but my friend 
gracefully steered off the course, in a 
way. by presenting me with his plan of 
the Tower of Silence. Also, he told me 
that such a thing would have been im- 
possible ( "nefas," I think he said in clas- 
sical allusion), little more than a hun- 
dred years ago. It seems, according to 
his story that in the latter part of the 
eighteenth century, an Englishman 
climbed to the top of one of the Towers 
of Silence to see how the place looked. 
His action caused such a commotion 



among the Parsees, who regarded it as 
sacrilege, or in much the same way as 
Christians would regard grave-robbing, 
that the British government took action. 
My friend did not tell me, but I knew 
that the Anglo-Indian government would 
not care to estrange the wealthiest and 
most highly educated race in all India. 
But he remarked that as a result of that 
first "Peeping Tom's" uncanny inquisi- 
tiveness, the law was passed which pro- 
tects all creeds and sects and religions in 
India from interference. And this law, 
as I recollect, has been touched upon by 
Rudyard Kipling in his story of the leper 
who acted as the agent of retribution 
against the Englishman who had dese- 
crated the temple of the monkey god. 

But all this was "by the way," as my 
English-nurtured Parsee friend would 
have put it, and I noticed that we were 
drifting away down the steeper slopes of 
the hill. I cannot say that I regretted it, 



VIRTUE BY VULTURES 



157 



for I had seen enough and I had no 
desire to stay about in anticipation of a 
funeral and the presumable rush of vul- 
tures over the ramparts of the Tower 
In fact, the vultures had become some- 
thing of an obsession with me and .1 
wished never to see them again. It may 
have been for that very reason that I 
finally put to my obliging companion the 
question that I had stifled all the morning. 
I wanted to know if he and other thor- 
oughly Europeanized Parsees did not 
shudder at the thought of being devoured 
by those leprous-looking birds. "Why \" 
he exclaimed, with a gleam of his white 
teeth in a quickly suppressed smile. 
"Why, I knew you would ask that, or if 
you didn't, that you would be wanting to 
ask it all the while. You see we are laid 
on the 'pavis' entirely nude, because we 
believe in leaving the world just as we 
came into it. That rule applies to every- 
body — rich or poor. You see, we believe 
in democracy after death, even if Ameri- 
cans and Frenchmen believe in it only 
during life. As I have told you, we do 
not wish to defile fire, and we know that 
it would be defilement if we should adopt 
cremation. That, by the way, is why we 
do not smoke tobacco or opium. If we 
were buried in the earth, we would de- 
file it because the worms are so slow. 
Besides that, I do not see why you should 



shudder at vultures and look forward to 
being devoured by worms. Shakespere 
refers to worms in this connection in a 
way that is revolting to me, but is evi- 
dently accepted by Europeans and Ameri- 
cans without question. Vultures are less 
repulsive than worms and they do the 
work more quickly and thoroughly. i>y 
this means, we assist in obeying the com- 
mand that we shall not defile the ele- 
ments." 

We had passed the farthest outposts of 
the filthy birds and were once more in 
the park-like stretches of the descent. I 
was emboldened, therefore, to ask if he 
hoped to acquire merit by vultures. He 
corrected me, for that phrase of acquiring 
merit is peculiar to the Buddhists. "No," 
he laughed, as we passed out of the 
shadowy, sun-shot woodland, "we might 
say that we do our duty in that way. We 
do not acquire merit in the sense you 
mean, though we may be accorded virtue 
by vultures. But at any rate, you and 1 
will be back in town in time for tiffin." 

And so he changed from the devout 
believer and exponent of an ancient faith 
into a thoroughly Anglicized man of 
affairs. Yet his remark of "virtue by 
vultures" has remained more succinctly 
expressive to me than all his well-meant 
and clearly-expressed explanation during 
that morning on Malabar Hill. 




Group of Parsees, the wealthiest and most powerful sect in India 



The Burglar and the Bible 



By CARY SEELY 



BUSINESS, in my line, has been 
bad for some time — very bad ! 
My line is not held in very high 
esteem by the public. That, per- 
haps, is one reason why business is so 
very dull at present. The public has 
grown a bit indignant and somewhat in- 
tolerant. Hence, the police department is 
especially alert, and this, more than any- 
thing else, is the cause of my present 
business depression. 

My line is — burglary! 

I am thoroughly capable and absolute- 
ly reliable. I served a long apprentice- 
ship under some of the best men in my 
business ; and I could, if required, secure 
any amount of references from various 
people, whose houses I have visited. 

Though a burglar, I am not a pick- 
pocket ! 

This charge I always earnestly and 
honestly deny. There is something de- 
grading and repellent about that line of 
work that I have always detested. The 
idea of putting my hand into another 
man's pockets while he is wearing the 
clothes containing the pockets, is, to my 
mind, particularly obnoxious. If the 
clothes happen to be unoccupied, then, of 
course, it is altogether a different matter. 

I am sometimes inconsiderately chaffed 
by my companions in regard to this point, 
which they term my failing. I always 
reply to them by saying that dealing in 
stocks, plumbing, and pick-pocketing is, 
as yet, beneath me, and I very earnestly 
hope that I may never fall so low. How- 
ever, notwithstanding all that, I have 
done some very neat work in my own 
particular line — I make a specialty of do- 
ing suburban cottages. While I may 
never make quite so large a haul from 
them as my professional brethren, who 
deal exclusively with banks, yet T have 
never drawn a blank, and so far, have 
r5 8 



always been able to bring off my engage- 
ments with neither the aid nor the inter- 
ference of the police. This, to my way 
of thinking, is quite as distinguishing as 
breaking even a very large bank and 
being officially interrupted. 

As I have said, business was very dull 
and, not being given to idleness, I began 
to look around for other fields and pas- 
tures new. Here, Fate gave me a pointer. 
Fate, I'd have you know, is quite as kind 
to us as to others, and at times, I might 
sav, is quite as ugly. 

While lounging about during this de- 
pression, I happened to pick up a rural 
newspaper that came wrapped around a 
package of skeleton keys I had just had 
made. The greatest blessings are often 
hidden in the very plainest of disguises, I 
have heard it said. Whether this saying 
be exactly true or not, I cannot say, never 
to my knowledge having come in direct 
contact with a bona fide blessing; but I 
have often found that the plainest people 
have the most money. In glancing over 
this paper in an idle way, a local notice 
caught my eye. It ran like this : 

"We are happy to state that Reverend 
Goodman, pastor of the Baptist Church, 
has secured the last of the necessary 
$1000 with which to finish the church 
decorations. As soon as the work is 
completed all debts will be paid. Brother 
Goodman is to be congratulated on the 
success of his zealous efforts." 

Most people, I presume, would not 
have noticed that little article, which goes 
to show that most people are not obser- 
vant or else their line of business is con- 
siderably different from mine. I might 
have missed it myself had it not been for 
the dollar mark, that always catches my 
eye. 

A few minutes spent in the careful 
consultation of an atlas showed me that 



THE BURGLAR AND THE BIBLE 



159 



the town was not very far away ; that it 
could be reached by rail; and further, 
that it had no bank. Jf there had been a 
bank I should have given the matter no 
more attention, for 1 do not like attempt- 
ing banks, even though breaking a bank 
is considered a praiseworthy thing in the 
profession. For my part, 1 have always 
been satisfied with plain, unpretentious 
house-breaking. Though I say it, as per- 
haps I shouldn't, J have saved out of my 
earnings a neat little sum, which is in- 
vested in good government bonds ; they 
may not bring quite so high a rate of in- 
terest, perhaps, as some other invest- 
ments might, but they are safe and re- 
spectable. But to return from my digres- 
sion. As I have stated, there was no 
bank in the town, so I decided to make 
the place a visit at once. I am not the 
man to hesitate in the face of a neat bit 
of business, and a thousand dollars is not 
to be picked up every day. Besides all 
these things, business in the city had 
come to an absolute standstill. They had 
doubled the police force and had offered 
some tempting rewards, which, while 
very complimentary to me, placed oppor- 
tunities at a premium too high for ad- 
venture. 

I packed the few articles that I occa- 
sionally use during my visits, in a small 
hand grip, and put on a neat suit of 
clothes. I always try to dress well, for a 
man must put his best foot forward in 
any business, ours as well as others. 
Then my journey began and I hurried as 
fast as the train would take me toward 
the one thousand dollars, with my mind 
on a good, safe investment, of which T 
happened to know, that could be made 
to double very easily by a man having the 
necessary thousand dollars. 

I had not outlined any particular plan 
of procedure; that is a thing I never do. 
T find that a preconceived plan spoils my 
hand, should difficulties arise — I have 
seen difficulties arise! So T have fallen 
into the habit of simply taking things as 
they come, and quite often they come 
very easily. They did in this case, for 
no sooner did I step off the train than a 
man of the sky-pilot cloth cm me hurrying 
up to me sayingr : 

"Ah, this is Brother Tones, is it not?" 



J decided instantly to be Brother Jones. 

"Yes," I answered, "and you — ?" 

"1 am Reverend Goodman, pastor of 
the—" 

"Baptist Church, yes, I remember." 

"Oh, but do your Well, that is kind 
of you I am sure." 

Then, as we started down the street- 
arm in arm, he continued : 

"Our little hotel is not of the best, I 
am sorry to say, so it has been decided 
that I take charge of you." 

I murmured a brief thanks. My knowl- 
edge of the wherefore of things was too 
limited for an extended conversation on 
my part. I knew Fate had done me a 
kind turn and was staying with me nobly, 
but I did wonder quite a bit who T could 
be, and what my business was supposed 
to be. There are so many Joneses of 
every line of business, that the name 
helped me none at all. It was apparent, 
however, that I was being cared for by 
some previous arrangement. Once, just 
once, I had a chill, it suddenly occurred 
to me that the police might be behind the 
scenes. This was, to my great relief, 
quickly quieted by his asking: 

"When can you begin?" 

"I thought of beginning at once, if 
everything is satisfactory," I replied, 
without hesitation, for that had really 
been my intention. 

"Very well," he said, "everything has 
been satisfactorily arranged." Then as 
we reached the house, he asked: "Shall 
I send for your trunk?" 

I wondered if I ought to have a trunk, 
but I decided to stick to the truth so I 
answered : 

"No, I didn't bring any." 

"You surely couldn't bring all the 
things you will need in that small grip !" 

"All that I shall need for the present. 
You see I want to get an idea of things, 
then I shall know precisely what I shall 
require." 

I had not the least idea in the world, of 
the thing's that T was supposed to do, but 
T think if he had known my intentions, he 
would have been the more surprised of 
the two. 

"To be sure, that is a very good idea. 
Now, I will show you to your room and 
then we will have luncheon." 



160 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



At lunch, the minister said grace. 
Evidently I was not a man of the cloth or 
I should have been asked to perform that 
ceremony. If I had been asked to do so 
— well, I refuse to say what I should 
have done. 

After luncheon he took me around to 
the church and asked my opinion con- 
cerning certain Biblical paintings that 
might be placed there. I began to think, 
perhaps I was an artist and I was racking 
my brain to remember if I happened to 
know anything about art. when he called 
my attention to an unmounted pedestal — 
for a moment, I feared I was a sculptor. 

During the afternoon, I ranged through 
three professions, four trades, and twice 
I suspected business. This sort of thing 
was worrying to me, for I am a man who 
tries to get through his business with as 
few words as possible. When he re- 
marked that it was time for supper, I 
lost no time in agreeing with him. 

At the supper table, I casually inquired 
about the money he had collected— the 
thousand I had read of and which had 
brought me here. 

"We had quite a little difficulty getting 
the required amount," he replied, "but I 
think we have it safely secured at last." 

"It is very difficult to get one's hands 
on money, at present," I answered sym- 
pathetically. 

"Very." The emphasis on the one 
word conveyed a chapter of understand- 
ing. Then he went on : "We have ar- 
ranged not to hold services until after 
you have completed your work, since it 
will save a possible awkwardness for 
those concerned." 

To me this was a burglar proof puzzle 
with night alarm trimmings. I could not 
get the drift of the thing at all, but I 
hastened to reply that I did not think it 
would take me very long. Following 
this, I remarked: 

"It must be very inconvenient not to 
have a bank in town. It leaves you with- 
out a safe depository." 

"We rarely have enough money by us 
at one time to be bothered with the 
necessity of depositing it," he answered, 
smiling. 

I nodded appreciatively. 

Then he drifted off into some talk that 



I could not clearly understand. The first 
of it had something to do with a very 
valuable Bible. Just why it was so espe- 
cially valuable was lost on me. I am no 
connoisseur on Bibles. But I did gather, 
with a great deal of gratification, that the 
church owned a safe in which they kept 
their treasure. Treasure is what he 
called it and he said that they had lost 
their combination and could not open it. 

I tried not to appear too interested 
when he mentioned "treasures." Treas- 
ures, I felt, were my especial property, 
and I wanted to hear more about this one, 
but he had turned onto the Bible again 
and I could not guide him back. 

Immediately after supper I announced 
that I would like to begin work at once, 
since it might take me some time and I 
had already lost the afternoon, "even if 
it was spent in so pleasant a manner," I 
added. 

He acknowledged the implied compli- 
ment gracefully and said that I could 
begin work whenever I liked. Then he 
gave me the keys to the church, together 
with a few directions as to where I 
should find certain things. He excused 
himself from accompanying me, on the 
plea of having to see a committee. Of 
this, of course, I was glad. It seemed to 
me that Fate had never played so well 
into my hands. 

I walked leisurely to the church and 
took my bearings as I went, for I was de- 
termined to break their safe, extract their 
"treasure" and get away as soon as pos- 
sible. I could not figure out what it was 
they wanted me to do and perhaps I could 
not do it if they told me. The situation 
was too unusual ; complications might 
arise at any moment and I was not pre- 
pared for complications, at any rate not 
for the kind I thought I could see com- 
ing. 

I found the safe in the vestry room 
and was very much pleased to find that it 
was the usual, small, ordinary, suburban 
sort, with a very simple combination. 

Now, I pride myself on my knowledge 
of small safes, though I know next to 
nothing about those massive bank and 
treasury affairs. Suburban dwellers have 
a partiality for burglar proof safes for 
which I am devoutly thankful. It saves 



THE BURGLAR AND THE BIBLE 



161 



an immense lot of time for a busy man 
like myself, whose business keeps him 
stirring to make both ends meet and yet 
save a tidy sum for a rainy day. The 
reason of my thankfulness lies in this : 
All the possessions of the house, that are 
of any value to me, are collected and 
placed in the safe. These safes yield 
their contents very readily to a man who 
knows them intimately, and when I am 
not rushed for time, a safe that does not 
yield very readily to me, is as sauce to 
meat. 

It takes a man with touch, experience, 
and very careful nerves indeed, to be 
able to tell just how far to turn the knob 
on the dial and when to turn back again. 
For the purpose of learning, I engaged 
to work with a safe company for three 
months and they allowed that I got on 
very rapidly. 

Well, I sat down before that safe with 
visions of money in my mind's eye. 
Sometimes Fd fancy it was gold, then 
again, greenbacks — greenbacks for choice, 
they pack well and are not weighty. 

I turned the knob to 5 before I felt the 
slight tick, then on around the dial to 32, 
tick ! then back again to 34, when, to my 
surprise, the safe door swung open. I 
had not expected it to be quite so easy. 
With the opening of the door I saw a 
flash of gold. I put my hand in and very 
carefully drew out — a Bible ! 

I was so preoccupied that I did not 
hear the sound of approaching footsteps 
and was entirely unprepared for the 
visitors that came upon me. It was the 
Reverend Goodman and a couple of other 
gentlemen whom he introduced to me as 
a committee of some sort. 

"Oh, you have got it open already, 
haven't you? Ah, isn't it a beauty?" said 
Goodman, as he possessed himself of the 
Bible. "We would have come earlier but 
we thought it would take you some time 
and perhaps you would rather work 
alone." 

I caught my breath twice before I 
could say a word, then I stammered : 

"I got through sooner than I expected." 

"Was it very difficult ?" asked one. 

"Not for me," I answered quite truth- 
fully. 



"What was the combination?" 

"Five — thirty-two — thirty-four." 

"There, what did I tell you !" exclaim- 
ed Goodman, in triumphant tones. "I 
knew it was in Deuteronomy." 

"So you did. I give it up, I thought it 
was in Proverbs," one of the others re- 
plied. 

"I hope you are satisfied, gentlemen," 
I said, more as a way out of the matter 
than because I really cared if they were 
satisfied or not. 

"Very well, indeed, and here is your 
money," said Goodman, handing me a 
ten-dollar bill. "And we are very much 
obliged to you, besides." 

I thanked them and pocketed the bill. 

"I was much surprised to find that 
your safe contained only the Bible, I 
thought the church funds were contained 
in it." 

"We have no church funds," said 
Goodman sadly. 

On the way to the station, I met a man 
who inquired of me for the Reverend 
Goodman. I directed him to the parson- 
age, instead of to the church, for it oc- 
curred to me that this might be the man 
for whom they had mistaken me, so I 
asked : 

"Are you the gentleman whom Mr. 
Goodman is expecting?" 

"Yes." 

"A minister, perhaps?" 

"No," he said with a laugh S 'J am be- 
ing sent down here by a safe company to 
open a safe for the church. They have 
lost the combination." 

I laughed and directed him to the 
church. 

It bothered me some to know what the 
reverend duck meant by Deuteronomy, 
so I borrowed a Bible of a Salvation 
Army girl and in looking for Deuter- 
onomy, I found it was the fifth book in 
the Bible. Then it struck me that the 32 
— 34 was for chapter and verse and that 
they had formed their combination from 
a text. I hunted it up and this is what I 
copied onto that ten-dollar bill : 

"Is not this laid up in store with me 
and sealed up among my treasures." 

5—32—34 

"Treasure!" 







The stone temple 






QUINCY 

A City of Progress 



By WILLIAM T. ATWOOD 



IN the middle of the reign of the 
canny Scotch successor of Good 
Queen Bess, in short — and not to 
put too fine a point upon it — in the 
year of grace, 1614, Captain John Smith, 
of glorious memory, casting his anchor 
into the chilly waters of Massachusetts 
Bay, landed to reconnoitre. The spot 
which he had chosen for a landing place 
was the site of the city of Quincy, and in 
spite of the raw March weather, the sa- 
gacious explorer was so impressed with 
the natural advantages of the situation 
that he marked the location upon his map 
"with signs of a castle and a cathedral as 
indicative of its future prosperity and 
grandure" and bestowed upon it no less a 
name than London. 

Captain Smith, however, was an ex- 
plorer rather than a settler and we find 
no white men making their homes in 
"London" until 1625, when Captain 
Wollaston with thirty associates took 
possession and renamed their settlement 
Mount Wollaston. Wollaston left a year 
later, entrusting the village to the care 
of Lieutenant Filcher. Now there was 
in this band of settlers one Thomas 
Morton, a renegade lawyer, sometime of 
Clifford's Inn, who was all at outs with 
the pessimistic and dreary philosophy of 
which the Melancholy Jacques, whom 
Master Shakespeare had lately created, 
was master, and which even now the long 
faced, sour-visaged, psalm-singing folk 
in Boston were so zealously upholding 
and was inclined, like the exiled Duke, to 
see pleasure, at least, if not good, in every 
thing. Therefore, he determined to found 
a colony where he could put his pleasure- 
loving theory into practice. It is un- 
fortunate that the accomplishment of 



this end should necessitate the removal of 
the worthy Mr. Fitcher from his post of 
leadership, but all great reforms have 
occasioned some small embarrassments 
and the Lieutenant was more or less 
forcibly persuaded to betake himself to 
other parts. 

Morton with a hand of choice and 
sympathetic spirits who quickly rallied 
about him, revived the old country 
customs, and proceeded to "turn night- 
time into day" with an abandon worth} 
of a college student after a football vic- 
tory. We must remember, however, that 
whatever has been said to the detriment 
of this crew of merry roisterers was said 
by their enemies, and many of their 
amusements were of a most innocent and 
harmless kind, even as judged by the 
standards of today. "All the hereditary 
pastimes of Old England were transplan- 
ted hither. The King of Christmas was 
duly crowned and the Lord of Misrule 
bore potent sway. On the eve of Saint 
John they felled whole acres of the forest 
to make bonfires, and danced by the blaze 
all night, crowned with garlands and 
throwing flowers into the flame. At har- 
vest time, though their crop was of 
the smallest, they made an image with the 
sheaves of Indian corn and wreathed it 
with autumnal garlands and bore it home 
triumphantly. But what chiefly character- 
ized the colonists of Merry Mount was 
their veneration of the Maypole. It has 
made their time history a poet's tale. 

"Often the whole colony were playing 
at Blindman's Buff, majestocates and all 
with their eyes bandaged, except a single 
scapegoat, whom the blinded sinners 
pursued by the tinkling of the bells at 
his garments. Once, it is said, they were 

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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




"Dorothy Q house'' 



seen following a flower decked corpse 
with merriment and festive music to his 
grave. But did the dead man laugh ? In 
their quietest times they sang ballads and 
told tales for the edification of their pious 
visitors, the Puritans — or perplexed them 
with juggling tricks, or grinned at them 
through horse collars, and when sport 
itself became wearisome, they made game 
of their own stupidity and began a yawn- 
ing match. " 

"At the very least of these enor- 
mities," continues Hawthorne, in the 
Maypole of Merry Mount, "the men of 
iron shook their heads." Nor was the 
crime of merriment the only one of the 
gay colonists' failings at which the stern 
Puritans looked askance, for these be- 
nighted mortals were weak enough to 
show kindness to the copper-hued hea- 
then and furnish them with firearms, and 
audacious enough to profane this sanctu- 
ary of religious freedom by declaring 
their faith in and their allegiance to His 
Majesty's Established Church. Right and 
Justice must have their way and there 
is little wonder that when the doughty 
Stan dish with his army of seven sturdy 
warriors came to Merry Mount, he found 
the sin-fettered knaves most easy vic- 
tims. Morton was captured but escaped 



and returned to Merry Mount. His 
reign was of short duration for he was 
again taken, and sent to England. From 
the deck of the ship as it sailed from the 
harbor, he could see the flames from his 
home that had been set on fire by a fanati- 
cal Puritan. 

I have given the reign of Morton more 
than passing notice because it and the 
establishment, in 1637, of the "Chapel of 
Ease" the only protests against Puritan- 
ism to have their inspection on New Eng- 
land soil, were conceived in Quincy. 

In 1632, the congregation of Thomas 
Hooker of Braintree, England, began to 
"sit down" at the Mount in preparation 
for the coming of their pastor. Owing to 
a contusion of land grants many of them 
left their new homes and went to New- 
town, now Cambridge, the remainder 
named their settlement Braintree. In 
1634 it was annexed to Boston. Brain- 
tree was not incorporated until 1640. 

The civil and religious histories of the 
colonial settlements are everywhere so 
closely connected, that the two are often 
inseparable. The next important step in 
the development of Quincy, although, 
strictly speaking, of a religious nature, 
was nevertheless one of the most impor- 
tant events in the life, not only of the 



QUINCY, A CITY OF PROGRESS 



165 



city, but of the entire New England dis- 
trict. In 1636, John Wheelwright, a class- 
mate of Oliver Cromwell, and a staunch 
Puritan arrived in Boston. There he 
found the remarkable woman who had 
won respect from the narrow and bigoted 
Puritans, even while she criticised their 
most sacred religious theories. 

The broadminded Wheelwright after 
much discussion accepted Mrs. Hutchin- 
son's ideas, and when, in 1637, he moved 
to Braintree, established the first Unitar- 
ian congregation. The new church was 
contemptuously dubbed, the "Chapel of 
Ease" by the cheerless devotees to Puri- 
tan rigor, but in spite of their contempt 



cock, father of the Revolutionary states- 
man, began services in the new building 
in the year above mentioned. In 1828, 
the congregation was transferred to the 
vStone Temple, still standing and in use. 
This edifice is one of the landmarks of 
Quincy both as the successor of the first 
Unitarian house of worship, and as the 
resting place of two presidents, John 
Adams and John Quincy Adams. In 
1792, Quincy was incorporated, taking 
its name from Colonel John Quincy, one 
of its early and distinguished citizens. 

Quincy enjoys the distinction of being 
the only city in the Union which has pro- 
duced two presidents. The houses in 




Birthplace of John Adams and John Quincy Adams 



and opposition, the new church flourished 
and has left a numerous and increasing 
posterity. The effect of the new religion 
cannot be overestimated in its tempering 
of stern Puritanism. Directly and in- 
directly it has done much in shaping the 
life of our nation. It was not until 1732 
that the first church was built but during 
that time the following of Wheelwright 
had increased in strength and numbers 
and under the leadership of John Han- 



which both were born are still standing 
and yearly draw thousands of travellers 
to the historic city. The remains of both 
John Adams and John Quincy Adams, as 
already noted, are buried beneath the 
famous church of which both were 
attendants. 

Another name that stands out in the 
annals of the town is that of John Han- 
cock. The site of his birthplace is occu- 
pied by Adams Academy. Sylvanus 



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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




QUINCY POSTOFFICE 



Thayer, the father of West Point, was 
a native of Quincy before it assumed its 
present name. Nor must the traveller 
overlook the "Dorothy Q" house, made 
famous by Oliver Wendell Holmes' poem 
''Dorothy Q," written to a painting of his 
great-grandmother, Dorothy Quincy. The 
house is owned by the Colonial Dames 
and used as a Museum of Colonial relics. 
The old cemeteries contain much that is 
interesting and valuable to the an- 
tiquarian, and the many minor historical 
points to which the obliging citizens are 
ever ready to direct the stranger, make 
his stay in this hospitable city a most 
pleasant one. 

Quincy is a city of spacious parks, 
spreading elms, and colonial houses, set 
upon wide, well cared for streets. The 
surface is rolling and devoid of that un- 
interesting flatness which so frequently 
characterizes coast cities. As a place of 
residence it is ideal. Excellent city water, 
a splendid sewage system, and shops 
reac ing the highest city standard, the best 
gas and electric service, all make for com- 
fort and content. 

The shore is too well known as a sum- 



mer resort to need description, its prox- 
imity to Boston both by steam and elec- 
tric trains makes it the summer home of 
many a business man whose duties 
prevent his leaving the city, except as 
he can run down to the shore over night 
or for a few hours yachting in the after- 
noon. The schools are ot a high grade 
of efficiency, both in number and stand- 
ard of teaching. There are besides the 
public schools, Adams Academy for boys, 
and Woodward Institute, and Quincy 
Mansion School, for girls. 

The Y. M. C. A. now housed in a fine 
building, centrally located, is doing ex- 
cellent work toward the social and moral 
development of the young men of Quincy. 

The Public Library is one of the most 
beautiSul in Massachusetts and the people 
of Quincy are to be congratulated upon 
the unfailing courtesy of the librarian 
and her assistants. 

Quincy has two wide-awake daily 
newspapers, and two weeklies. The old 
reliable Quincy Patriot was established 
in 1837, and in 1888 the publishers began 
the publication of a daily issue known as 
the Quincy Daily Ledger. The Ad- 



QUINCY, A CITY OF PROGRESS 



167 



vertiser was started in 1885 and The 
Telegram in 1909. 

The trade situation is in the hands of 
an active Board of Trade, and a most 
wide-awake Retail Merchants Association 
The recent Merchants' Week Celebration 
given by the latter has already had its 
effect in bringing in trade to the retail 
merchants. But it is, after all, to the 
granite interests that we must look for 
Quincy's greatest natural industry. 

To speak of Quincy immediately in- 
troduces the subject of Quincy granite. 
It is in this industry that the city stands 
prominent, f or nowhere else can be 
obtained granite so well suited to fine 
building and monumental work or so 
susceptible of a high and lasting polish. 
And the best of it is that the deeper the 
quarries go, the better becomes the stone 
taken from them. Over a million dollars 
is now invested in the twenty-five 
quarries, and one hundred and fifty 
gran-ite manufacturing concerns, and the 
output reaches every city of importance 



in the Union. Yet as one authority says, 
"The present quarries are but a scratch 
on the surface." Transportation facili- 
ties have been the bugbear against which 
the granite manufacturers have had to 
contend, but from the strenuous efforts 
which the energetic Granite Manufactur- 
ers Association is putting forth, great 
improvements will soon be felt. It is 
hoped that the excellent water front will 
soon be developed. Such development 
would have a three-fold beneficial result ; 
first, as a convenient and inexpensive 
system of transportation for the granite 
manufacturers, and a minimizing of 
their dependence upon the railroads ; 
second, as a promoter of varied manufac- 
turing plants upon the extremely cheap 
and highly desirable sites now open for 
such industries; third, as a business of 
great magnitude in itself and a splendid 
investment to its developers. 

As originally used, Quincy granite was 
taken from the surface rocks that 
abounded on the North and South Com- 




Thomas Crane Public Library 



168 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




A QUINCY QUARRY 



mons. The stone was used for building 
purposes alone and the methods of work- 
ing it were of the most primitive kind. 
The boulders were reduced to blocks of 
the required size by dropping iron balls 
upon the heated rocks, and if they re- 



quired squaring, the work was done with 
the hammer. The machine operated plants 
of the present d?.y would be a source 
of no little wonder to our hard laboring 
forebears, and perhaps a source of no 
little envy when they considered how 



QUINCY, A CITY OF PROGRESS 



169 



much they might have saved in energy 
and gained in purse. 

The first building of any architectural 
pretentions to be constructed of Quincy 
granite was King's Chapel, Boston, in 
1752. The blocks used in its construc- 
tion were quarried from the boulders in 
North and South Commons. Other his- 
toric Boston buildings of the same ma- 
terial are the Suffolk Court House, and 
the Custom House. 

The great impetus and the development 
of the Quincy quarries, however, was the 
erection of Bunker Hill Monument. In 
1826 the quarries at Cape Ann proving a 
failure, attention was directed to Quincy. 
The unexpected excellence of the stone 
when procured from below the surface 
at once advertised Quincy as a quarry 
town to all the world and secured for it a 
reputation which has ever been improv- 
ing. 

In passing it may be remarked that the 
Bunker Hill contract gave Quincy the 



distinction of building the first rail- 
road in America. It was a track of 
wooden, iron-shod rails some three miles 
long, reaching from the quarries to the 
Neponset River where the stone was taken 
aboard lighters and conveyed to Charles- 
town. The cars were drawn by horses. 

It is comparativelv recent that granite- 
has come into use as a material for 
monuments, but with the demand, the 
manufacturers have brought in sculptors 
of the first ability and are producing 
mortuary statuary of exquisite design. 

The largest individual concern in 
Quincy is the Fore River Shipbuilding 
Company. Covering over forty acres of 
land and employing four thousand men. 
it turns into the hands of Quincy citizens 
over two million dollars a year. The 
company is equipped to turn out any sort 
of craft from a lifeboat to a battleship. 
Four battleships and three cruisers, to 
say nothing of numerous torpedo boats, 
and submarines, have been built for the 




High school, Quincy 



170 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



United States government, and the larg- 
est battleship in the world is now build- 
ing for Argentina. 

Among the most interesting features 
of the Fore River Company, is its appren- 
ticeship system. By this system, boys of 
sixteen or seventeen years of age having 
a grammar school education are admitted 
to technical and practical study of his 
choice of fourteen different trades, re- 
ceiving during the time a fair wage for 
his labor, and ''is allowed a bonus of 
one hundred dollars, from which as soon 
as his apprenticeship agreement is signed, 
he is permitted to requisition the Com- 
pany for tools, technical books, drafting 
equipment, etc., and have them charged 
against his bonus account, the balance to 
be paid the apprentice in cash on the 
completion of his term of apprentice- 
ship." This is a new departure in the 
economics and ethics of manufacture. 

Among other large concerns located in 



Quincy and its environs, are: the Baker 
Yacht Basin, boat builders, the Tubular 
Rivet & Stud Co., The Boston Gear 
Works, The Pneumatic Scale Company, 
and numerous foundrys. 

If good Captain Smith were to return 
to earth and appear upon the streets of 
Quincy, I think we could forgive him 
his complacency if he answered, "I told 
you so" when we congratulated him upon 
the correctness of his prophecy as set 
down upon his ancient map. But I be- 
lieve that the Captain's reply would be 
this: 

"You have developed resources of 
which my time never dreamed. You have 
become wizards with powers at your beck 
and call to improve and transport the 
products of your soil, which make the 
heaped up ingenuity of former ages in- 
significant. My prophecy has not yet 
come true, you have but made your be- 
ginning." 




Quincy City Hall 




Glass Works wharf, Germantown 



Quincy's Waterfront 

By FRANK FESSENDEN CRANE 



THE waterfront of old historical 
Quincy, for a lover of history, 
has many charms. On the west 
shore, where the Neponset river 
forms the boundary of Quincy, the first 
railroad of the United States operated by 
horse power, sought, as today is sought 
by the great railroads of the world, an 
outlet to the sea, and built wharves and 
facilities for loading granite on board the 
stone sloops that transported it to Bos- 
ton and to other points on the Atlantic 
seaboard. This railroad was operated 
first, October 7th, 1826. To the north 
Squaw Rock, Squantum Head, Moswe- 
tusket Hummock from a historical border 
to old Squantum that juts into Boston 
Harbor, and even in our busy world of 
today the lover of the old Indian legends 
finds timet o visit and enjoy these land- 
marks of the days of the Massachusetts 
Indians. Following the shore towards 
the east from Moswetusket Hummock, 
is a beautiful boulevard just completed 
by the State of Massachusetts, and form- 
ing a fitting border, with its fringe of 
blue water to the old historical Massa- 
chusetts Field, where the Massachusetts 
Indians had their home and planting 



ground. The shore drive passes the 
Squantum and Wollaston Yacht Clubs 
and leads you into a magnificent park, 
a gift to Quincy from one of its most 
honored sons, Charles Francis Adams. 
Still going eastward to the southern 
boundary of the park you come to an 
inlet, at the head of which, where the salt 
waters of Wollaston River or Blacks 
Creek, as it is now called, joins the waters 
of a beautiful brook, Edmund Quincy in 
1706 built the house now known as the 
Dorothy Q. House. This historical house 
on Quincy's waterfront is owned by the 
Colonial Dames and is used as a museum. 
Still going toward the morning sun and 
crossing the creek, you enter the spacious 
grounds of Mrs. John Quincy Adams at 
the foot of the hill known as Merry 
Mount, where one Thomas Morton, of 
Colonial days, erected a May Pole and 
danced and caroused with the Indians to 
the horror of the Puritans of Boston and 
Plymouth. The Adams Mansion stands 
on the brow of this noble hill and the land 
slopes to the sea, one of the most beauti- 
ful spots in New England. Still coming 
toward the east, along the shores of 
Quincy Bay, you finally reach the furth- 

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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



est point of the northeastern shore of our 
city, known locally as Nut Island, where 
formerly the Algier Foundry Co. of Bos- 
ton tested cannon. This island was 
formerly a hill sixty feet above sea level, 
and a few years ago was taken by 
the State of Massachusetts and the hill 
levelled, a pumping station erected and 
a wharf built on the east side. 

What was formerly known as Nut 
Island bar is now a good road above the 
sea level, which you cross at all times in- 
stead of waiting for the bar to show above 
the water, as Quincy people were wont to 
for the past forty years. At the inshore 
end of this road, over the old Nut island 
bar, rises Mears Great Hill, which stands 
like a sentinel and guards the entrance to 



compared the sunset views from this 
point with those of that far famed bay, 
and have felt that they not only equalled, 
but at times excelled them. From the 
foot of this hill at the northeast, a thirty- 
foot natural channel runs to the sea, and a 
twenty-seven foot channel up Weymouth 
Fore River which bounds the southern 
shore of Quincy to a short distance above 
Quincy Point bridge, which joins the city 
of Quincy to the town of Weymouth. 
On the south side of this hill the Quincy 
Yacht Club has its commodious building, 
with large floats, and house accommoda- 
tions for over four hundred members, 
assembly hall, grill room, ladies' room, 
billiard room, shower baths and lockers, 
while its race courses in Hull Bay can 



- ' 




The Quincy Yacht Club 



Quincy's southern shore. If you really 
love the water, climb this hill on a sum- 
mer evening and look westward toward 
the Blue Hills, watch the amber and gold 
of the sunset change to crimson-red and 
then really glare at you across the bay, 
through eyelids of lead color, with face 
of amethyst and head of turquoise blue, 
with hair of fleecy clouds that wan and 
wave. Those of us who have been 
favored with a personal glimpse of the 
celebrated Bay of Naples, have often 



be easily seen from its wide piazzas. 
Every Saturday the boats of this club 
race at some point in Massachusetts Bay, 
from May to September, and on the 
home courses the young men of the club 
practice the science of boat sailing, in 
order to maintain the prestige of the 
names of Charley and George Adams, 
Henry M. Faxon and William P. Barker, 
whose skilful hands at the wheel have 
carried the flag of the Quincy Yacht Club 
to the front in many a hard fought yacht 



QUINCY'S WATERFRONT 



173 



race. Going southwest up Weymouth 
Fore River, at Quincy Point, just north 
of Quincy Point Bridge, Town River 
branches from Weymouth Fore River 
and runs northwest to the foot of Merry 
Mount on the south side. On its easterly 
shore at its mouth the old hamlet of 
Germantown lies, with all its historical 
interest, and southeast on the opposite 
shore of Weymouth Fore River was the 
old settlement of Pilgrim Days, known as 
Wessaqussett. A ship was built at Ger- 
mantown in 1789. 

Germantown derived its name from its 
early settlement by a colony of Germans, 
who built a Glass Works and a wharf 



glass works wharf and about 100 acres of 
land, with the bluff known as Phillips 
Head, which extends into the river above 
the glass works wharf. Across this head- 
land is a row of immense old willow trees 
said to have been planted by the Indian, 
King Philip, and here his tribe feasted 
and had clam bakes. 

The Sailors Snug Harbor is a well en- 
dowed institution and here any sailor who 
has sailed out of the Port of Boston for 
five years, and is poor or disabled may 
find a home for life. Francis Bacon, 
Thomas Motley, Albert Fearing, Leverett 
Saltonstall, Thomas E. Perkins, John 
Quincy Adams, John M. Forbes and 




Yacht Club races 



which still remains, the works having 
departed long years ago, and the remains 
of the old glass works cellar are all there 
is to be seen of the ancient industry, and 
here if the relic hunter unearths a bit of 
old pottery he feels well paid for his 
usually strenuous labor. At German- 
town in the old days, was kept for many 
years a young ladies' seminary. This 
property was purchased by some of Bos- 
tons wealthiest merchants, who built, just 
north of the school building, a substan- 
tial brick building known as the Sailors 
Snug Harbor. They purchased the old 



Gom. R. B. Forbes were the founders of 
this noble charity. The old sailors sit 
on a bench in front of the weigh house 
on the old glass works wharf, and crit- 
icize the amateur yachtsmen as they sail 
up and down ihe Quincy River, They 
also have a large rowboat at the wharf 
and row the summer visitors at old Ger- 
mantown across to Quincy Point for five 
cents, and acquire on good days much 
tobacco money. Near the wharf are 
many moorings and the yachtsman who 
comes in and shoots his craft for one of 
these and misses it, often hears cries of 



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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



derision from the old critics, and the 
winner of some of the scrub races on the 
river is greeted with strange congratula- 
tory oaths and much thumping of canes. 

Following Quincy river up on its 
northern side we come to Quincy woods, 
part of the estate of Mrs. John Quincy 
Adams, and here C. C. Hanley has pur- 
chased land and erected a large boat-shop. 
Hanley is known and celebrated as a 
builder of fast catboats. The originally 
built boats at Monument Beach down on 
Cape Cod, and the names of Harbinger, 
Magpie, Opeeche, Almira, Dartwell, Iris 
and Clara are familiar to every lover of 
this type of boat as representing gocd, 
honest, reliable, safe boats, constructed 
in the best manner, and the fastest of 
their type. 

Now we come to the head of naviga- 
tion of Town River at the foot of the 
southern slope of Merry Mount, and less 
than one-half a mile from the waters 
of Wollaston River and Quincy Bay 
which borders Merry Mount on the north 
and west and turning to follow the river 
back to its mouth on the west shore, 
we find the large and up-to-date plant 
of the Quincy Electric Light and Power 
Co. John Cashman for President and 
Henry M. Faxon Treasurer and General 
Manager, this company keeps abreast of 
the times and gives good light and ser- 
vice, many of the stone sheds using its 
power. 

Here we arrive at the entrance to the 
old canal, with the old Southern grist 
mill at the dam, now used by the John- 
son Lumber Co. for a planing mill. This 
canal was projected in 1824 to allow the 
sloops, that were used for transportation 
in those days, to come to the centre of 
the town, to load granite, lumber, and 
grain. This canal cost $10,000, and 
was completed in 1826 by a company 
known as the Quincy Canal Company. 
The principal business was the transport- 
ation of granite. These vessels were 
from 60 to 100 tons burden, carried four 
hands and made three trips a week. 

At the mouth of the canal going down 
the river is located the Johnson Lumber 
Co. with ten acres of water front land 
and large wharves having a 13-foot 



channel. This lumber yard was for- 
merly a ship yard and in 181 5 John 
Souther built vessels here, the ships 
Tisga, Comet, barques Prescott and Had- 
ley, brigs Alfred Hammond and Souther, 
sloops Hamilton and Gem. Yacht Bloom- 
er and others were built here. Adjoining 
the Johnson Lumber Co. down the river is 
the boat-yard of William Gavin where 
many yachts find winter quarters, and be- 
low is the yard of Barrows & Sprague. a 
live up-to-date boat-building firm who 
build and repair yachts. Just below this 
yard the city of Quincy has a large park 
on the water front with bath-houses and 
floats, and adjoining the park is the 
Baker Yacht Basin, with its railway and 
shops. This concern is building every 
season yachts, tugs and small vessels, and 
is a busy up-to-date concern, one of the 
best equipped plants for storing, refitting 
and repairing yachts in the harbor and 
its nearness to Boston by water or rail 
is of great advantage to the yacht owner. 
We have now arrived at Quincy Point, 
noted always for its ship building. At 
Quincy Neck which is really the farthest 
point south of Quincy water front, in 
1696 was built the Unity on land, now 
owned by the Fore River Ship Building 
Co., from 1806 to 1835 Oliver Jenkins 
built vessels at Quincy Point, in 1820 the 
Bark Mt. Wollaston was built for Ed- 
ward Creft. President John Adams took 
great interest in her construction, and 
some of her timbers were hewn on his 
land. From 1834 to i860 Pelig F. Jones 
built vessels at Quincy Point, from 1825 
to 1857 three different people, Nathan 
Josslyn, one Sawyer, and a man named 
Cushion, built vessels just above Quincy 
Point Bridge, on land now owned by the 
Fore River Shipbuilding Co. On a point 
of land where Quincy river joins Wey- 
mouth Fore River was the famous ship- 
yard of Deacon George Thomas. At 
this yard was built the ships King Phillip, 
800 tons ; the ships Shakespeare, Mag- 
delin, Athena, Gerbain, Logan, Upton, 
E. H. Taylor, Manitana Dexter, C. 
Tulin, Mawrin, Geo. Griswold, Belle 
Creole, Imperial, Northern Light, Trium- 
phant, America. The brig J. L. Bowen, 
the schooners D. H. Betts, J. L. Newton, 



QUINCY'S WATERFRONT 



Nellie Brown, Addie Walton, Angie 
Amesbury, Lucy D., and Montana. At 
the ripe old age of 82, in 1877, Deacon 
Thomas built the Red Cloud, a ship of 
2200 tons, which made many world 
famous records. 

On the site of this shipyard is the 
power plant of the Old Colony Street 
Railway Company which furnishes the 
power for the street railways of this 
section and has large wharves and coal 
pockets. Now we have come again to 
Weymouth Fore River, with its 27-foot 
channel to the sea, and here at each side 
of Quincy Point bridge just above the 
power house are the coal pockets of J. F. 
Sheppard & Sons and F. S. Patch, the 
coal merchants of Quincy. About 120 
thousand tons are received annually at 
these wharves. 

Above Quincy Point Bridge and occu- 
pying a point of land of about fifty acres 
is Quincy's greatest water front industry 
known in all parts of the world, the Fore 
River Ship Building Company, repre- 
senting a capital investment of over $5,- 
000,000. 

With a representative of one of New 
Englands sturdy old families for its 
president — Admiral Francis T. Bowles, 
Admiral Bowles has recently returned 
from abroad with a contract for two 
battleships from Argentina, bringing 
to Quincy and the State of Massachu- 
setts honor and profit won in fair com- 
petition with the ship builders of the 
world, twenty-two million dollars of 
foreign business won for this city and 
state by the skill and persistent efforts 
of Admiral Bowles. Quincy is justly 
proud of these great ship-building works 
proving to the world that the largest 
battleships can be built or repaired on our 
water front. 

The Fore River Ship Building Co. is 
the last industry on our southern water- 
front, occupying a large peninsula be- 
tween Bents Creek and Haywards Creek, 
so called, and at the head of Haywards 
Creek the town of Braintree joins the 



town of Quincy. Here are the wharves 
and railroad track of the old Mitchell 
and Wendell Quarry, (the track) leading 
into the one hundred acre tract of quarry 
land. This great property is owned by the 
F. S. Patch Co. and only used for ice 
pond property, millions of tons of wharf 
stone right at the water front only wait- 
ing for the coming of the Narraganset 
Bay to Boston Harbor Canal or some like 
enterprise, to be shipped away. We have 
now bounded the city of Quincy on its 
water front and hope we have demon- 
strated to you that Quincy's water 
frontage offers to the history lover, the 
vacationist, the artist, the yachtsman, or 
the business corporation advantages un- 
excelled by any part of the harbor oi 
Boston. Our terminal facilities for am 
railroad line would not require as in 
many sections, millions of dollars spent 
for dredging but with our 30-foot channel 
to the open sea coming directly to our 
shore, a railroad need lose no time and 
could get down to business at once. New 
industries are looking at Quincy's water 
front locations and the future seems 
bright with the promise of a busier and 
more prosperous Quincy. 

Since this sketch was written Quincy 
has been making history. The first suc- 
cessful Aviation meet in New England, 
if not in the country, was he 1 d on the 
Harvard field in this city from Septem- 
ber 3 to 15, attended by hundreds of 
thousand of people. American records 
for duration and distance were estab- 
lished by Ralph Johnstone, who remained 
in the air 3 hours, 5 minutes and 40 sec- 
onds, and travelled 101 miles, 389 feet. 
Johnstone also made a world's record for 
accuracy in alighting on skids, 5 feet, 4 
inches. A $10,000 prize was won by C. 
Grahame- White, who travelled 3.3 miles 
in 34 minutes, 1 1-5 seconds. The record 
for altitude was 4,732 feet, ' made by 
Walter Brookins. An aeroplane flight 
from Quincy to Los Angele* on the 
Pacific is proposed for 1911 



j& j& J& 



The Dip of the Tar-Brush 



By M. A. H. 



I WAS in the park one day, and 
passed a gentleman I know, in the 
road. I used to sew for his wife. 
With him were two gentlemen that 
I had never seen. 

When they came near enough to speak 
he said, "Hello, Millie!" The two men 
with him raised their hats, and looked at 
him in surprise that he had not touched 
his. Then he laughed, and said : "Well, 
that's one on you, boys." 

They asked what he meant. "Oh, 
nothing, just a little dip of the tar-brush," 
he answered. 

They both turned quickly to get an- 
other look at me. "A. very light dip, 
then, I'll swear!" said one, and they all 
laughed again. They made no effort to 
lower their voices. Nothing could have 
been more amusing than for me to show 
that I was hurt or offended by their 
words. The sensitiveness of the colored 
race is always a joke. 

I got hot from head to foot and my 
face turned red in spite of myself. I am 
so white that the red shows plainly under 
my skin. But I was not angry; I was 
just miserable. If it had not been for my 
mother I should not have lived to face 
another day. 

It might be better if I were black — 
though I am more thankful for my creamy 
skin and my straight, fine hair, and my 
red lips — they are not a bit thick ! — than 
for all my other blessings. I know I am 
pretty. I have heard it all my life. That 
is why it is so hard to be a nigger. Your 
beauty is only a curse usually. 

Besides we have inherited the white 
man's tastes, ambitions, intellect, pride, 
and, alas, prejudices. The two races are 
forever at war within us. No white 
woman feels more repugnance at coming 
in close contact with the dirty, black, 
*The term used in the South to 
176 



unclean type of negro so prevalent in the 
South than I. Yet, I must sit by them in 
cars, church, school ; wherever I have the 
entree, they have. But I shall never, 
never marry one. 

My grandfather on my mother's side 
was an aristocrat of the bluest blood ; my 
grandmother was a beautiful quadroon — 
that's where I got my looks. My mother 
is nearly white, and my father was too; 
and they were regularly married, which 
is a great satisfaction to me ; so many of 
our race have a contempt for the mar- 
riage tie. 

My quadroon grandmother was my 
grandfather's wife's maid. How odd 
that sounds ! But it seems odder still 
that he was Miss Jessie's grandfather too. 
His picture is in the hall. I am always 
wondering if she and Mr. Charlie and all 
of them know these things. But when I 
ask my mother she tells me to hush ; she 
is really horrified. She is proud of her 
"white folks" and is always telling about 
the glories of the past. But she never 
speaks of her white blood. I learned it 
from others. 

Before my grandfather died, my white 
grandfather, he gave my mother a nice 
cottage and plenty of land, so that we are 
better off than most negroes. Of course 
we work for our living, but we are lucky 
not to have any men in the family to sup- 
port. 

I don't know why it is, but colored men 
don't feel under any obligation to support 
their families as white men do, that is, 
the majority of them. Of course there 
are many exceptions. Nearly all of our 
neighbor women take in washing, or 
work out to keep bread in their children's 
mouths. The hopeless part of it is, they 
don't seem to expect anything else ; which 
may be one reason the men are so worth- 
designate a strain of negro blood. 



THE DIP OF THE TAR-BRUSH 



177 



less. Of course their children run loose 
in the street. 

Professor Andrews, at the university, 
used to say that if the men of his race 
would work and take care of their fam- 
ilies, and give their wives a chance to 
keep the children at home and teach them 
to work, or send them to school, there 
would be very little left of the race 
problem. He says good citizenship is 
the solution of it, and it is in the black 
man's hands. 

I told Miss Jessie about that and she 
told Mr. Charlie. He said, "That nigger's 
got a level head on his shoulders, but he 
won't last long out there ; they don't want 
to hear that kind of gospel." 

I guess he was right, because Professor 
Andrews was not re-elected. The better 
class of colored people wanted him but 
they were in the minority. There are 
both white and colored teachers in the 
college — and they talk a lot about "equal- 
ity," instead of teaching the boys and 
girls to be honest, and self-respecting, 
and not afraid of work. Professor An- 
drews says that they gain nothing and 
lose much. He is so smart, Professor 
Andrews ; I wish he wasn't so black — 
for I know he is fond of me. Mr. Charlie 
used his influence to get him appointed to 
the public schools ; he says his field of 
usefulness will be much larger there. 

As I said, his skin is black, but it is fine, 
and smooth, and he has not one feature 
like a negro's ; his hair is not at all 
woolly. He is a Southerner, and his 
parents were slaves. He does not care 
who knows it. His master was kind to 
his slaves, as my people's masters were, 
on both sides. It was the cruel ones that 
caused all the trouble. 

I should not have thought of sending 
any thing I wrote to the magazines, if I 
had not seen stories they have sometimes 
by butlers and cooks and others of that 
class. 

It seems odd that people who read 
should care for them, or have the slight- 
est interest in the views and experiences 
of people in that position. But they must, 
or else the great magazines would not 
publish them. Still — they were not 
colored people ; that may make a differ- 
ence. 

Mother might beat me if she knew I 



was writing like this — as she did when 
she found Mr. Charlie running his fingers 
through my hair. She almost beat him 
too, for she really "raised" him, as she 
says, and says whatever she pleases to 
him. My mother is nearly sixty, and I 
am nineteen. 

We sew for a living; I do all Miss 
Jessie's fine sewing; and she says I do it 
better than anybody she ever saw. But 
I am studying to be a teacher ; there are 
lots of things I would like to teach my 
people. 1 say "my people" over and over 
to punish myself for hating it so ! 

I can't help my foolish dreams though ; 
I often dream that I am white — sure 
enough white — and dressed all in soft, 
shimmery silk, with spool-heel slippers 
the same color, and diamonds in my hair 
and at my throat. I live in a beautiful 
house with white people around me, and 
negro servants. I dance with Mr. 
Charlie and his friends — and they take 
off their hats to me when we meet ! But 
it is all the worse when I wake. 

I know what heaven will be: a place 
where I shall be white and loved by Mr. 
Charlie — not as black girls are cared for 
by white men — but as his equal. 

Some times, when the day's work is 
over, and I am sitting alone on the gal- 
lery in the cool dusk, watching the lights 
come out, one by one, in the big house on 
the hill, I love to think of Paul Lawrence 
Dunbar and the sweet things he wrote. 
He had some compensation for being a 
negro ; he had talent. But I wonder if 
he was not glad that his way was short. 
It seems so to me, when I read that 
pathetic little verse he wrote when he was 
so rapidly nearing the valley of the 
shadow : 

"Because I have loved "so fondly, because 

I had loved so long, 
The Master in infinite kindness, gave me 

the gift of song. 
Because I have loved so vainly, and sung 

with such faltering breath — 
The Master, in infinite pity, offers the 

boon of death." 

He was a negro, too, and he had a 
beautiful soul. I wonder if he minded, 
as much as I do. the "dip of the tar- 
brush !" 




Copyright by J. Ei. Tarbell 



The Spiritual Adviser 



Southern Silhouettes 



By PAULINE CARR1NGTON BOUVE 



ALACK of the democratic instinct 
has been one of the faults at- 
tributed to those of Southern 
blood and heritage by Northern- 
ers who have written copiously concern- 
ing "Southern characteristics" and 
"Southern temperament" from the mo- 
ment that the classes of Americans 
known as Northerners and Southerners 
began to seriously contemplate the differ- 
ence existing between themselves and 
their neighbors, and so much stress has 
been laid on this particular trait, that the 
Northern point of view has generally 
been accepted throughout the North and 
in Europe. 

To a certain extent this may be true, as 
a result of sectional institutions, but a 
close study of the earliest English colony 
will show that, in spite of aristocratic 
pretensions, Virginians had from the 
earliest days of Colonial Government a 
jealous love of their rights and preroga- 
tives that outweighed the instinct of 
aristocracy and held in it the seed of 
republicanism. 

The gallant, young Devonshire Knight, 
who preserved "the fancy of a poet and 
the chivalry of a soldier," Sir Walter 
Raleigh, Lord and Chief Governor of 
Virginia, had in the year 1584 secured a 
charter in which it was provided that the 
colonies of Virginia should "have, all the 
privileges of free denizens and natives of 
England, and were to be governed ac- 
cording to such statutes as should by them 
be established, so that the said statutes 
or laws conform as conveniently as may 
be to those of England," and when in 
1619 the General Assembly was convened 
that body flatly refused to give their 
records to the royal commissioners for 
inspection. Their clerk, however, dis- 
obeyed them, prompted, no doubt, by 



fear of the possible consequences of dis- 
obedience to the direct command of 
royalty, and as a result of his prudence 
had one of his ears cut off and was put 
in the pillory. This fearless body, short- 
ly afterward, passed statutes limiting the 
power of the Governor to levy taxes ex- 
cept through itself— the General As- 
sembly. The love these early Virginian- 
had for the House of Stuart was devo- 
tional in its intensity, yet when Charles I. 
claimed a monopoly of the Virginian 
tobacco trade, such a vigorous protest 
was made by the loyal colonists of the 
old Dominion that Charles deemed it 
prudent to yield the point. Afterwards, 
when Cromwell sent a governor to them, 
they straightway deposed him but re- 
elected him to show the new ruler from 
over seas, that the representative of the 
Commonwealth might act only by their 
authority. 

With romantic devotion they offered 
their beloved dominion to the dissolute 
but fascinating refugee, Charles II., that 
he might make Virginia his Kingdom, yet 
when he made a grant of the Northern 
Neck to Lords Culpepper and Arlington, 
they showed unmistakable evidence of a 
fixed resolution to revolt. 

In Thomas Nelson Page's "The Old 
South," we find a paragraph which is 
illuminating: "Now and then," he says, 
"the lines crossed, and, with intercourse, 
gradually the aristocratic tendency of the 
seaboard and Piedmont became grafted 
into the patriarchal system of the valley, 
distinctly coloring it, though the absence 
of slaves in numbers softened the lines 
marking class distinction." 

Here we have in the last dozen words, 
the reason, in Mr. Page's mind, for 
strongly marked lines of class distinction, 
in the proportion of slaves in a given sec- 

179 



180 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copyright by J. H. Tarb 



Reminiscences 



tion of country. Sir Walter's ineffectual 
effort to colonize Roanoke Island, off the 
North Carolina Coast, which was made 
in 1585 and the years immediately fol- 
lowing, had discouraged enterprises of a 
similar nature, and at the beginningof the 
seventeenth century that part of the new 
world inhabited by white men was within 
the limits of the Spanish settlements of 
St. Augustine in Florida and Santa Fe in 
New Mexico. Here those of De Soto's 
blood ruled by cross and sword. Here 
amid the almost tropical glades of that 
land where "no sound of insect or of 
plundering bee breaks the noon tide 



siesta," 

"Where all sleeps beneath the great 

Sun burdened trees, 

Where through the foliage sifts down a 

light 
Like sombre velvet soft as emerald moss," 
the fierce blooded, courtly mannered 
Spaniards held possession of this corner 
of Columbus' discovery, little dreaming 
that their hereditary foes, the English, 
would within a few years wrest from 
them the land founded by their fathers, 
the lords of the wonderful river that 
was the grave of their great leader, De 
Soto. 



SOUTHERN SILHOUETTES 



181 




Copyright by J. H • Tarbell 



Playmates 



In one of Heredia's most dignified and 
beautiful strophes, Spanish conqueror 
and American river are equally immor- 
talized. 

"The Redskin and the bear disturb him 

not, 
A common grave became not such a 

death : 
No conqueror of the Indies of the West 
Has all the Mississippi for his shroud ; 
In deep bed carved by virgin waves he 

sleeps. 
What matters the funereal monument, 
The tapers, psalm and masses sung by 

row? 



Since the North Wind among the 

cypresses 
Doth ever chant and moan eternal prayers 
Calm the stream where great De Soto 

lies." 

In 1607, those destined to be its pos- 
sessors planted Great Britain's flag on 
Virginian soil. This was two years before 
the Half Moon sailed down Hudson Bay 
and thirteen years before the Pilgrims 
landed at Plymouth, at that time included 
in what was known as Virginia. On the 
thirteenth day of May the word sent out 
by the London Company furrowed the 
waters of Tames River and anchored off 



182 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copynglu by J 



Between the Acts' 



the northern shore, a peninsula that jutted 
from the mainland — the crew and pas- 
sengers aboard the fleet of three small 
vessels under Captain Christopher New- 
fast, included one hundred and four men, 
fifty-two of whom were ''gentlemen." 
Of these "gentlemen" some unfortunate- 
ly had come in search of gold rather than 
to establish a new home and government. 
The wise administration of Captain 
Smith sustained the scanty remnant of 
the hundred, which had been reduced to 
one-half of their number by pestilence 
during the first dreadful summer, and it 



was his return to England, on account of 
an injury from a gun explosion, that 
brought the colonists to the direst straits. 
Sickness, famine and attacks from the 
Indians, fell in rapid succession upon the 
little colony. The feud known as the 
"Stormy time" had broken their energies 
as well as their hopes, and they were 
about to abandon the colony when Lord 
Delanace sailed up the James with food 
and a well equipped expedition and 
changed the fate of Virginia. The land, 
which had hitherto been held in common, 
was divided among the colonists, each one 



SOUTHERN SILHOUETTES 



183 



being given a little farm of his own. 
Governor Dale, now in office, instituted 
a wise, though iron rule of government. 
The lack of industry disappeared when 
the people worked for themselves in- 
dividually instead of for the common 
storehouse of the community. Four years 
later the Virginia colony had established 
a great industry — John Rolfe had started 
the cultivation of tobacco, which imme- 
diately found a market. It became the 
fashion to smoke this weed in London. 
Jamestown was saved. The great 
agricultural industry of America had its 
inception before another settlement had 
been made in English America. Then 
came, in the same year, 1619, the simul- 
taneous events which were to neutralize 
each other — in August 1619 a Dutch 
vessel sailed up the James river with a 
cargo of "twenty negars" who were sold 
to the settlers as slaves. 

In the same year, the Virginians, now 
numbering four thousand souls, demand- 



ed a voice in the management of their 
affairs. The London Company, seriously 
annoyed and perplexed by the strenuous 
appeal of the Colonists, sent to them Sir 
George Yeardley and yielded to their im- 
portunate demand. The eleven "bor- 
oughs" of Virginia, convened as a law - 
making assembly in the choir of the little 
Jamestown Church July 30th of that 
year, and the first legislative body of 
America was formed under the name of 
the Virginia House of Burgesses. It is 
an interesting thing to note, in passing, 
that of these members was a planter by 
the name of Jefferson, whose descendant, 
one hundred and fifty years after the 
meeting in the Jamestown church choir- 
room, drew up the American Declaration 
of Independence. 

Cnriously enough, the first absolute 
step towards practical republicanism — a 
legislative body — and the inauguration 
of slavery, a complete reversion to feud- 
alism, occurred in the same year in pre- 




Copyriglit by;J. H. Tarbe 



The Nursing-place of Minstrelsy 



184 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



cisely the same place ! But of this it may 
be said that the first and nobler act was 
the result of the Virginian colonists love 
and respect for liberty, independent of 
any outside influence. The second 
ignoble act was not wholly a matter of 
the Virginians' effort or plans, for the 
slaves bought by them were sold by 
traders in the employ of their neighbors. 
With that first disastrous barter of 
humanity began, not a sectional, but a 
national crime. 

There two antipodal occurrences are 
the foundation roots of two opposing 
elements coexistent since that time in 
that region of the United States known 
generically as the South — the inherent 
struggling towards a democracy, and the 
feudal aristocracy which grew out of 
slavery. 

"There is indeed," says Edgar Gard- 
ner Murphy in "Problems of the Present 
South," "a deep note of responsibility, 
which sounds through the words of 
an intensely Southern publicist in an 
address delivered in Montgomery, the 
first capital of the Confederacy, the late 



J. K. M. Curry, May 9, 1900. The 
negro,' said Mr. Curry, 'is a valuable 
laborer ; let us improve him and make his 
labor more intelligent, more skilled, more 

productive Shall the Caucasian 

race, in timid fearfulness, cowardly in- 
justice, wrong an inferior race, put ob- 
stacles to its progress? Unless 

the white people, the superior, the cul- 
tivated race, lift up the lower, both will 
be inevitably dragged down.' " This sense 
of responsibility that Mr. Murphy speaks 
of is the noblesse oblige, which has large- 
ly dominated the development of South- 
ern life. Mr. Murphy admits that there 
is a very distinct assumption of the 
colored race's inferiority, but he dwells 
also upon the equally distinct assumption 
of that race's "improvability," possibility 
for nobler, higher things, and upon these 
two assumptions rest the South's obliga- 
tions — its sense of its own responsibility. 
The federal policy which followed the 
Civil War had for its aim the reconstruc- 
tion of an aristocratic society into a 
democratic society, which was in itself 
a denial of democracy, because democ- 




'Driving Away Dull Care 



SOUTHERN SILHOUETTES 



18: 




Copyright by J. H. Tarbe 



Beau Brummel 



racy is an instinct of life before it is an 
organization of society, a something that 
must come from within. Freedom, he 
adds, cannot be inaugurated by force, nor 
can a democracy be created by martial 
law, and sums up the matter by saying, 
truly enough, that there "has, therefore, 
never been a cruder oligarchy than that 
represented by the reconstructive gov- 
ernments of Southern states." 

In Professor Hart's exhaustive and 
masterly study of Southern conditions, 
"The Southern South," we get the view 
of a Northern writer, who has made this 
section of the Union a matter of inves- 
tigation for twenty-five years. Professor 
Hart does not think that the fact of its 
enormous negro population and the at- 
titude of the races toward each other, 



makes the only difference between the 
Northerner and the Southerner. "The 
negro," he says, "does not make all the 

trouble, attract all the attention 

In every part of that section there is a 
Caucasian question, rather a series of 
Caucasian questions, though always 
along with it is the 'shadow of the 
African.' " And Dubois remarks that 
the stranger, a visitor in the South, always 
"realizes at last silently, resistlessly, the 
world about flows by him in two great 
streams ; they ripple on in the sunshine, 
they approach and mingle in seeming 
carelessness, — then they divide and flow 
wide apart." 

Each year there is an influx of North- 
ern visitors to that region of America 
where one of the few really picturesque 



18b 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copyright by J. H. Tarbell 



A Georgia Field Hand at Work 



elements of American life, the negro in 
his primitive simplicity, may be seen — the 
visitor going thither in search of health 
or recreation finds much that amuses and 
entertains ; the student of sociology and 
economics finds more to puzzle and in- 
terest him, perhaps, for in spite of the 
truth of Professor Hart's statement that 
"always along side of every other ques- 
tion is the shadow of the African," there 
is still a certain inalienable sort of fel- 
lowship between the Southern black man 
and the Southern white man. In Rich- 
mond, Atlanta, Jacksonville, Charleston, 
there is a class of Afro-American citizens 
and a class of Southerners who are still 
under the influence of three centuries 
and a half or more of the mutual inter- 
dependence of the slave system, which 
in its best aspects, though per se a great 
wrong, accentuated the best traits of 
human character — generosity, a sense of 
protection on one side — loyalty, patience, 
endurance on the other, and in a majority 



of instances, mutual affection. 

About the streets of these Southern 
cities turbanned black "mammies" prome- 
nade with their white nurslings, telling 
them stories of "ole times when yo' pa 
un' ma wuz li'lle same as you is now, 
befo' de wah, chile," white, round eyed, 
curly haired children beg for more 
stories about those old times that were so 
grand and beautiful according to 
mammy's account. 

A little further on, iron wrought gate- 
ways, among the most beautiful in the 
world, it is said, shut in almost tropical 
gardens and vine embowered mansions. 

In Charleston, S. C, the morning or 
afternoon caller rings not the d<v*r, but 
the gate bell, according to a distinct old 
Charleston custom, and awaits the ancient 
butler who comes to the gaie, card tray in 
hand, to usher in or speed on her way the 
would-be guest, with the calm dignity and 
gentle courtesy of the old time Southern 
servant. Within the fragrant seclusion 



SOUTHERN SILHOUETTES 



187 



of garden walls, the lady of the house is 
usually sitting among her flowers or on 
the wide verandah, calm as the lilies 
blooming about her, and full of that 
graceful repose that belongs to the 
chatelaines of Southern homes, where 
family life and the social duties con- 
tingent upon householders are still the 
most important things in a matron's life. 

Some old family servant is watering the 
thirsty plants in a corner of the garden, 
while "mammy," still the autocrat of the 
nursery, snatches a moment while her 
small charges are taking their morning 
nap, to gaze with fondly reminiscent eyes 
upon the faces in the well-known group 
of "Abraham Lincoln and his family." 
Faithful to her duties and responsibilities, 
full of devoted, self-sacrificing affection 
to the children she nurses and those she 
serves, "Mammy does not forget Mars 
Lincoln, who set the culled folks free." 
There's no bitterness in the kindly old 
face, only tender and grateful recogni- 
tion. "Mammy" is indeed one of the 
philosophers of her race. 

It is only when one goes South that 
one begins to understand some of the 
peculiarand distinctive traits of theAfro- 
American citizen. 

The sort of freedom side by side with 
absolute respect that the old fashioned 
negro servant manages to mix up in his 
intercourse with his employer is a con- 
stant surprise to the Northern visitor. 
Aunt Phoebe, here in the picture, for 
instance, sometimes resents a rebuke to 
her charge from her mama. When the 
visitor one day told little Amorette to be 
quiet, that she was disturbing the family, 
Aunt Phoebe turned her turbanned head 
defiantly as she left the room, exclaiming 
quite caustically, "Taint no wonder 
Amorette talks er heap. Her ma aur 
tongue-tied." 

The black citizen is omnipresent in 
Charleston and other Southern cities. 
He's as much a part of the landscape as 
the trees and flowers, and adds a pic- 
turesque charm wherever he is found, 
driving his ox cart along some dusty high 
road, a happy pickaninny by his side in 
the wagon seat, the "branch" in a "tip 
cart," harvesting the bean crops for 
Northern markets, or gathering fagots in 



the forest as some negroes and "Po' 
whites" find it necessary to do. 

Sometimes the toilers of the field 
remind one of Millet's figures. The 
kneeling woman here in the bean fields 
has a certain touch of pathos in her face, 
engendered maybe by the care she must 
take to keep ashes and sparks from fall- 
ing from her pipe into the basket before 
her. Among no people is the pipe such a 
joy and comfort as with the Southern 
negroes. Sitting on her door step, a 
pipe in her mouth and her hands clasped 
about her knees, Aunt Kizzy knows the 
full enjoyment of rest after toil. Aunt 
Kizzy belongs to the class known as "fiel 
han'." Her turban lacks the dignity of the 
head gear worn by the mammies and old 
fashioned ante bellum house servants, 
who were as particular about the fold 
of their white or bandanna turbans as 
were their mistresses about their "water 
falls" and "chignons." Among the 
younger negroes the happy-go-lucky 
philosophy that takes no thought for the 
morrow is a predominating character- 
istic. 

In the seclusion of the barn or stable 
the fascinations of "seven up" are very 
alluring, and in the midst of such primate 
diversions, common place "shines" and 
their contingent nickles are forgotten. 
Love of amusement is born in the South- 
ern negro. "Craps policy" and horse- 
racing pale before the charms of the 
cock-pit, and a pair of fighting cocks is a 
temptation beyond the spiritual grace of 
the average small darky. He is addicted, 
however, to more reputable diversions, 
and the boy who owns and can play a 
fiddle, always has an ecstatic group of 
admirers around him. That the love of 
and talent for music is indigenous to the 
soil and the soul of the Southern negro, 
is the conclusion of anyone who has 
heard a fiddler make his banjo or fiddle 
express all the pent up unrecognized sor- 
row of a naturally happy-souled but un- 
fortunate race. 

The Southern feeling of caste is not 
confined to "white quality" and "po' 
white trash," but is shared by the negroes 
who have their own class distinctions as 
well as their dominant neighbors. There 
is a subtle distinction between "corn fiel' 



188 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copyright by J. H. Tarbell 



The Sport 



niggus and "cotton fid's niggars," house 
servants and field workers, guinea nig- 
gers and those of Nubian descent, that is 
very amusing to the outsider but very 
real to their sunny tempered, but not 
always inconsequent children of the 
tropics. 

If you have ever seen a "culled swell" 
getting a shine, you will understand what 
Southern social distinction means. The 
humble, adoring admiration of the 
blackie for his patron, effulgent in the 
splendor of cast off raiment is an epitome 
of the fallacy of the inherent natural 



democracy in man. There is no foolish 
effort on the part of the "poor white" to 
step across the line society has drawn 
between the educated "gentleman born" 
and the sturdy, self respecting, untutored 
toilers of the soil. If one of the latter 
is born with intellect and character 
enough to make him lift himself up to a 
position of honor and responsibility, the 
man born on the other side of the line 
accepts him gladly as one of his own by 
the Gift of God! 

In the domestic relation there is usual- 
ly a very happy feeling. The old nurse 



SOUTHERN SILHOUETTES 



\6>) 



loves as her own the little white girl 
whose caresses to "mammy" are never 
considered bad form by even the state- 
liest of the stately Southern dames. 
Mammy is one of the household author- 
ities, whose dictum is rarely controverted 
by any member of the family. One little 
girl in Dixie used always to say, "My 
mamma is the prettiest woman in the 
world and mammy is the next," which 
proved her to have possessed a taste of 
very wide range, but a very warm little 
heart. No matter how deeply absorbed 
mammy may be contemplating the photo- 
graphs of "old marster and mistress," 
when they were very young, or her own 
progeny who have wandered away to 
those distant regions generically des- 
cribed as "up Norf," she is never dis- 
turbed when two arms suddenly imprison 
her head while a pair of tiny hands blind- 



fold her and she is ordered in imperative 
tones to "guess who this is !" 

The old woman in her spotless turban 
and kerchief is really a good influence in 
the child-life of "de little white lady," in 
whom she inculcates rather severe doc- 
trines sometimes, but a very genuine 
reverence for the holy things of life. 
Kneeling at the knee of some pious old 
negress, the little white child partakes in 
a faith as simple as her own. 

The old woman has held to her belief 
in the wisdom and love of God through 
toil, danger, bondage, and as little 
Amorette finishes her "Our Father" and 
whispers, "God bless Mama, Papa and 
Mammy and take us all to Heaven to- 
gether when we die," Mammy's "Amen, 
honey, bless de Lord," may contain the 
best solution after all of the great South- 
ern problem ! 




Copyright by J. H. Tarbell 



A Relic of the Old South 




Ciurtesy ot the National Shawmut Hank 



Providence and Worcester Railroad Crossing in 1840 

Historic Happenings on Boston 

Common 

IV. — from town to city 



By MARION F. LANSING 



THE story is told of Harrison Gray 
Otis, one of Boston's early 
mayors, that an acquaintance 
said to him one day : "Brother 
Otis, why is it that your name is in the 
mouth of everybody as being such a fine 
man, such a perfect gentleman, such a 
good man, and so forth? Now please 
tell me what you have ever done to en- 
title you to be so praised ?" 

'The thing is very simple, Brother 
Ben," replied Mr. Otis ; "go up to Colonel 
Messinger's and you will see by his books 
that every year he orders four hats for 
me, and only one for you. I bow to 
everybody I meet, and you don't; hence 
I wear out four times as many hats as 
you do." 

That was in the town of Boston, the 
town of less than three thousand dwelling 
houses ; the town from which we inherit 
our crooked streets, which is described at 
the beginning of the nineteenth century 
as having "97 streets, 36 lanes, 26 alleys, 
18 courts, a few squares, besides some 
short passages from wharves and from 
one street to another ;" but the town as 
well, where few houses were without 
garden spots and orchards ; where it was 
the custom of the quality to go in bathing 
on summer afternoons from the "hand- 



some clean beach" at the foot of the Com- 
mon ; the town, moreover, where dwelt 
such courtly and distinguished gentlemen 
as Harrison Gray Otis and Josiah 
Quincy. 

Bostonians are accustomed to speak of 
their city as old, and so it is relatively. 
But people of Mrs. Julia Ward Howe's 
age realize that the American city is a very 
recent product. To the historian no 
phase of national development of the 
nineteenth century stands out so clearly 
as the transformation of the towns of 
twenty-five and thirty thousand people 
into cities of ten and twenty times that 
number. A whole science of city living 
has come into being ; and a new system of 
political machinery, believed by many to 
be the ripest product of our democratic 
ideals, has been developed in the solution 
of the problems of efficient city govern- 
ment. Today for the first time we are 
venturing out along these new lines, but 
we do it with the experience of fifty, 
seventy-five, and a hundred years behind 
us, and with the example of our neigh- 
bors' experimentation for a guide. The 
city came upon the men of the first half 
of the nineteenth century almost un- 
awares. They were settling their affairs 
in town meeting, and suddenly the town 

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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



meeting became unwieldy and unmanage- 
able. Bostonians clung to theirs until it 
was almost a riot, and then reluctantly 
changed to a representative system of 
municipal control. They were pasturing 
their cows on the Common, and behold, 
there were too many cows ! First they 
fenced in the walks that pedestrians 
should not be inconvenienced, and then 
they had to take away the right of pastur- 
age altogether. The cherished custom 
which British muskets had not been able 
to break up, the city fathers must abol- 
ish by a vote, and the Common became 
the index of the progress of community 
life, as it had been the slogan of indepen- 
dence. 

Beginnings are always interesting. The 
beginnings of city life in Boston, with the 
quaint pictures of days which were slip- 
ping away, and the foreshadowings of 
the metropolis which was to be, are 
fascinating. The people protested so 
violently against changes which seem to 
us so obvious. Josiah Quincy had, for 
instance, the greatest difficulty in getting 
a fire department of the most primitive 
sort organized. It had been from time 
immemorial the duty of every citizen to 
rush to the scene of every fire, carrying 
with him buckets and "a bag in which to 
rescue valuables." Boston had been 
swept again and again by fires which had 
carried away whole streets of her pine 
and oak houses until in 1801 the rule had 
been made that all new houses more than 
ten feet high should be built of brick or 
stone. At that time, it was the pride of 
the city that besides its four stone houses, 
it had one fine brick house standing on 
Beacon Hill overlooking the Common, 
the home of John Phillips, the first 
mayor. Even this rule, however, and the 
presence of every citizen with his bucket 
had not prevented many disastrous and 
wide-spreading fires. Yet what a storm 
of opposition was raised by the proposal 
of Mayor Quincy that the city should 
establish a fire department. The sugges- 
tion of engines to be owned and operated 
by the town was tolerated ; but that cis- 
terns be placed at convenient intervals 
and lines of hose be arranged to supply 
water from these cisterns, — that was ab- 
surd and impracticable. Ambitious poli- 



ticians spent their time for many a month 
denouncing these cisterns as useless holes 
in which an extravagant mayor was fool- 
ishly sinking the city's money. But it 
was not many years before the papers 
were full of proud references to the cred- 
itable performances of "our firemen," 
and, after town water was introduced, the 
firemen's drills on the Common on the 
evening of Independence Day drew even 
larger crowds than the feats of the im- 
ported balloonists. 

This introduction of town water was 
one of the greatest events that was ever 
celebrated on the Common. It was the 
first miracle of modern engineering to 
be wrought in the city which was to 
create a fashionable residence section 
out of its marsh land and to anticipate 
even New York in its system of under- 
ground transportation. "The greatest 
day of this generation," says a contem- 
porary account, "was the October day in 
1848 when the channels and aqueducts 
were completed which were to bring 
water from Lake Cochituate, twenty 
miles away, and distribute it throughout 
the sandy peninsula. Four million dol- 
lars had been spent, and years of time 
had been consumed. Today the feat was 
accomplished. Today from the Frog 
Pond on the Common, that familiar spot, 
which had been repaved and enclosed for 
the occasion, Cochituate water was to 
spout forth as fresh and clear as though 
it had made no long journey at the bid- 
ding of man through artificial channels. 
From all the neighboring towns, people 
came to see this marvel, and at the 
bounds of the Common they were met by 
inscriptions erected on the gateways as- 
suring them in Bible language that the 
prophecies had indeed come to fulfill- 
ment. "Streams shall run in our streets, 
and play about our gateways," read one, 
and "The springs of the hills have come 
to refresh us," was emblazoned across 
another. As the long procession of dig- 
nitaries marched through the passage 
reserved for them between the crowds, 
the Handel and Haydn Society led them, 
singing a hymn composed for the occa- 
sion. They gathered about the Frog 
Pond and there was a hush while prayer 
was offered. Then hundreds of school 



HISTORIC HAPPENINGS ON BOSTON COMMON 



193 



children joined in singing the "Ode to 
Water" which James Russell Lowell had 
written for the day. 

"My name is Water: I have sped 
Through strange dark ways untried be- 
fore, 
By pure desire of friendship led, 
Cochituate's Ambassador : 
He sends four royal gifts by me, 
Long life, health, peace, prosperity." 

When the echo of the last verse had 



different shapes, spout up toward the 
sky. Then they turned to their homes 
where this "royal gift" of Mr. Lowell's 
Ode was to become their common prop- 
erty. 

It is pleasant to think that the spirit of 
Boston was truly displayed in this distri- 
bution of water. In many places where 
town water had been introduced, it had 
been brought at public expense only 
through the streets. Each citizen must 
decide for himself whether he could 
afford to connect his house with the sup- 




Courtesy of the State Street Trust Company 

Celebration on Boston Common of introduction of Cochituate water into the city 



died away, the mayor, after a word of 
explanation from the Chairman of the 
Water Commissioners, turned to the 
people and said : "Citizens of Boston, it 
has been proposed that pure water be in- 
troduced into this city. All who are in 
favor of this proposal will please say 
/Aye'!" A unanimous and hearty shout 
came from the crowd, and in response to 
this popular summons, a column of 
sparkling water, six inches in diameter, 
leaped seventy feet into the air. It must 
have been a wonderful moment. Long 
after the exercises were concluded the 
people stood motionless, watching the jet, 
which was made to play in seven or eight 



ply. Boston had lived up to her heritage 
of democracy and had sent the water at 
public cost into the home of every citizen, 
rich and poor alike. It was doubly ap- 
propriate therefore that the people should 
gather on the ground which their fore- 
fathers had reserved for common use, to 
celebrate the coming of this new and 
universal blessing. 

The Common has proved to be a trust- 
worthy barometric index of the city's 
progress. In its celebrations we see the 
great events recorded ; in its rules and 
regulations we find those tiny indications 
which show so clearly the changes that 
were taking place. The restrictions are 



194 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



so significant. The first mention of the 
Common in the city regulations, after 
the charter was adopted, is to the effect 
that there must be no more shaking of 
carpets anywhere in the city except on 
the Common, and even there not within 
ten rods of the public paths. Then there 
is that law of 1802, relic of the old Puri- 
tanic Boston which was passing away, 
that Sabbath-breakers, bathing at the 
foot of the Common on Sunday, should 
be punished, which called forth in the 
Sentinel the impertinent retort of "young 
Boston," which was beginning to assert 
its right to free speech : 

"In Superstition's days, 't is said, 

Hens laid two eggs on Monday, 
Because a hen would lose her head 

That laid an egg on "Sunday. 
Now our wise rulers and the law 

Say none shall wash on Sunday; 
So Boston folks must dirty go, 

And wash them twice on Monday." 

At last after many epidemics, the city 
fathers waked up to the danger to the 
health of the community, of the marshes 
which came up to the Common's edge, 
and after many delays the ropewalks 
were finally bought out, and the swamps 
were drained which were soon to be con- 
verted into the Public Garden. 

It took a long time for the town to 
grow up into the full stature of a city, 
and we almost regret the changes that 
marked the transformation, though they 
were inevitable. The holiday-makings, 
when the Common was covered with 
booths and stands and wandering show- 
men, are so much more spontaneous and 
attractive than the carefully planned pro- 
grams of the next generation. We envy 
Mr. Hawthorne his Fourth of July in 
Boston in 1838, when he wandered here 
and there over the pleasure ground, 
studying the people with his kindly, yet 
penetrating glance ; and we envy the 
small boys who were sailing their boats 
on the Frog Pond, the honor, which they 
did not at all appreciate, of being 
watched by the quiet, dark-haired man, 
who entered so sympathetically into all 
the adventures and misadventures of 
their brigs and schooners and men-of- 



war on that mimic sea. 

It was the event of the year to go to 
Boston for Independence Day. Small 
boys, and even their older brothers and 
sisters, saved their money for weeks in 
anticipation, and spent it with careful 
and judicious consideration on those 
shows and dainties which promised most 
from their flaming signboards. The 
whole border of the Common was lined 
with booths and tents where food and 
drinks were temptingly arranged. Gin- 
gerbread, sugar-plums, confectionery > 
spruce beer, lemonade, molasses candy, — 
these enticed one in the early hours of 
the day ; and there beyond were larger 
tables with more substantial viands, 
"groaning under the weight of ponderous 
hams and tender pigs," from which the 
father of the family could purchase the 
supplies for the noon meal. But one 
must inspect with care before purchasing. 
Here were huge chunks of gingerbread, 
to be sure, but up at the other end of 
the line were gingerbread figures, solid 
and substantial, in the shape of Jim 
Crow or of some of the political celeb- 
rities of the day. It requires a whole 
day and an unlimited purse to exhaust 
the charms of the Common, — to see the 
mammoth rat, to test one's fate on the 
wheels of fortune, to tease the monkey 
who was perched on the top of one of 
the booths, and best of all, to visit and 
revisit the wax-work show. 

"The Statuary," as the wax-work dis- 
play was called, was the craze of the 
period. But if you think you are about 
to see the tame and ladylike originals 
of Mrs. Jarley's famous company, you 
will meet with a surprise. The glib 
showman whose voice greets you as you 
enter the tent and invites you to come a 
little nearer, that you may appreciate 
better the truly lifelike appearance of 
these wonderful reproductions, is des- 
canting on the story of Pirate Strong 
and Mrs. Whipple, who together with 
the display of a most fiendish skill and 
cunning, murdered the husband of the 
latter. This next figure to which he 
calls your attention is Captain Kidd, the 
pirate, and your blood runs cold as he 
recites the tale of bones buried in the 
sand on desert isles. Should you wish 



HISTORIC HAPPENINGS ON BOSTON COMMON 



195 



to refresh your memory on these inci- 
dents, printed histories of the characters 
may be obtained at the door, as you go 
out. That the reproduction is so perfect 
in every detail that the family of the hero 
would hardly know the difference, he as- 
sures you, as he holds the candle higher 
that you may admire the details of cos- 
tume and feature. Pirates and mur- 
derers, murderers and pirates, — such is 
the repertoire, with here and there a 
familiar group like the Siamese Twins. 
So it goes on hour after hour, and the 
showman reminds you in the intervals 
between his moral discourses on the 
dreadful crimes here disclosed, and the 
sins of their perpetrators, that a thousand 
persons have already viewed the figures 
today, and more are waiting outside at 
this very moment. The taste for melo- 
drama is evidently not a product of mod- 
ern life. Yet we sympathize with those 
who lamented loudly when the booths 
must needs be given up because the 
crowds were too large and unwieldy for 
even the broad acres of the Common, 
and who found music and fireworks a 
tame substitute for this varied entertain- 
ment. 

It was natural that the same factors 
which changed Boston from a town into 
a city should bring it into a new relation 
with the nation, and of the occasion 
which was the token of this out-reaching, 
the Common was the centre. Three years 
after the Water Celebration there was 
held the great Railroad Jubilee of 
October, 1851, which marked the com- 
pletion of the last and longest of seven 
railroads connecting Boston with the 
outside world. Other enterprises had 
been local, bringing added comfort and 
convenience to the city; this was a na- 
tional, even an international affair, as 
was witnessed by the presence of the 
President of the United States and the 
Governor General of Canada. To appre- 
ciate its significance we must review, as 
did the speakers of the day, the events 
that led up to it. Hardly twenty years 
had elapsed since the first shovelful of 
earth had been moved for the construc- 
tion of any railroad track in Massachu- 
setts ; the first locomotive engine had en- 
tered New England in 1834; and now at 



an expense of fifty-four million dollars 
the State had constructed within her own 
limits, twelve hundred miles of railroad, 
and had established beyond her borders, 
connection with thirteen states of the 
Union. The occasion of this Jubilee, the 
completion of the Boston and Montreal 
system, brought within easy reach 
northern New York, the Great Lakes, 
and Canada; and at this same time, the 
first line of American-owned steamers 
between Boston and Liverpool was open- 
ing its service with four steam packets, 
"not one of which was less than 1500 
tons burthen, the costliest ships ever 
owned in Boston." 

"BOSTON AND THE CANADAS, 
UNITED BY BONDS OF IRON." 

So read the inscription on the arch 
erected over the track by which the dis- 
tinguished guests entered the city, and 
the motto within the great Pavilion tent 
on the Common carried the idea still 
further. 

"THOU SHALT LOVE THY 
NEIGHBOR AS THYSELF: 
TORONTO, MONTREAL, QUEBEC, 
BOSTON. 

HONOUR TO THOSE WHO HAVE 
BROUGHT US TOGETHER." 

The circle of Boston's "neighbors" had 
indeed extended its circumference in two 
decades. The thirty-five hundred people 
who sat down to the Jubilee dinner in the 
huge pavilion could have testified to that, 
had it not been demonstrated to them in 
the great railroad map which lined the 
roof and stood, a silent witness to the 
wide area from which the guests had 
been gathered. Of one hundred and five 
towns and cities, Massachusetts had only 
twenty-five which were not directly con- 
nected with Boston by one or another of 
the seven railroads ; and of these, thir- 
teen were seaport towns, easily accessible 
by water, and the remaining twelve were 
adjacent to towns upon the railroads. 

The dinner on the Common was the 
closing exercise of a three days' program. 
It was the largest affair ever undertaken 
by the city and had been most carefully 



196 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



and artistically planned. The whole in- 
terior of the canopy was lined with flags 
of different nations, those of Great 
Britain and the United States occupying 
the place of honor behind President Fill- 
more's and Lord Elgin's seats. In the 
centre of the pavilion, amid gay lines of 
bunting, there hung one faded, tattered 
flag, reminder of the past, with the 
motto, "This flag waved in the time of 
the Revolution over the Liberty Tree." 
One wonders that it should have been 
placed there on this occasion when 
American vied with Canadian in drink- 
ing the health of the Queen and extend- 
ing the hand of brotherhood, but Bos- 
tonians were tenacious of their history 
and their hard-won independence. 

The speeches were many, and the sen- 
timents expressed were mutually con- 
gratulatory. The dinner, we are told, 
was excellent ; the menu sounds substan- 
tial and appetizing, with roast beef, ham, 
tongue, oyster pie, lobster salad, fruit, 
pastry, melons, ice-cream, and so forth." 
Darkness fell before the festival was 
over, and the guests were forced to ad- 
journ to the streets without, where bril- 
liant fireworks were illumining the town. 

With the coming of the railroad and 
the steamer, the modern city of Boston 
was fairly launched. Later occasions 
were merely repetitions on a larger scale 
of what had been begun. In the three 
centuries of its history, Boston Common 
has surely justified its origin, — its setting 
apart as a central and uniting possession 
of all citizens. The symbol of com- 
munity life, it has been a convenient 
means by which to take the pulse of the 
village, the town and the city. Has it 
not proved throughout, to be the symbol 
of the same spirit, that best spirit of Bos- 
ton, which has persisted through all the 
changes? We treasure the memory of 



good Deacon John Sullivan who paid the 
town-crier to go up and down the streets 
ringing his bell before every school, and 
inviting the scholars to come over to the 
Common and enjoy the hay which he had 
just mown. And we open the Common 
on hot nights to the tenement dwellers 
who would otherwise suffer in their 
crowded sleeping-rooms. We remember 
the courtesies of Mr. Otis of the four 
hats a year, and are glad when our city 
fathers decree that for two hours at 
noon, lines of benches on the Common 
shall be vacated that tired shop-girls may 
have the benefit of the coolness and 
shade. In our histories we read how 
John Lucas and Oliver Smith, distressed 
by the neglected appearance of the public 
land, went from house to house in 1784, 
and got subscriptions amounting to two 
hundred and eighty-five pounds with 
which to grade the slopes of the Com- 
mon, repair the fence, and care for the 
trees. Then we turn to our newspapers 
and learn of the large bequest left by 
George Francis Parkman, the income of 
which is to be expended for the main- 
tenance and improvement of the Com- 
mon, "in the hope that Boston Common 
shall never as a whole or in part be 
diverted from its present purpose, as a 
recreation ground for the citizens of Bos- 
ton." Even our city council has a senti- 
ment about this historic park, and takes 
pleasure in occasionally reiterating with 
unanimity and emphasis, as it did in 
1891, the provision of early colonial 
documents, resolving that "it expresses 
the sentiment of the people in declaring 
that they will forever resist the surrender 
of a single inch of the sacred soil of Bos- 
ton Common for any purpose other than 
that for which it was originally de- 
dicated ; namely, for the use of the com- 
mon people forever." 





Theodore H. Bauer, General Press Representative, Boston 
Opera House 



The Fine Art of Grand Opera Advertising 

By THEODORE H. BAUER 



WHEN the Standard Oil Company 
decided to establish a publicity 
bureau as a permanent feature 
of its business, an official stamp 
of approval was set by one of the world s 
greatest enterprises upon the profession 
of the press agent, in fact it was an ad- 
mission that the so-called promoter of 
publicity has become an important factor 
in the business life of the world. 



It is comparatively but a few years ago 
that the man who tried to make the 
public acquainted with the most salient 
features of the enterprise he was con- 
nected with was looked upon with mani- 
fest disfavor by the editors and was con- 
signed to the Ananias club by the readers 
in the rare cases where he succeeded in 
inducing the grouchy journalist to award 
him a few lines in the newspaper. 

197 



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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




H f 1cp;j 1. 1 j CI ul-.n 



Alice Nielsen 



Today the editor who is alive to news 
values looks upon the press agent as a 
valuable member of his official family, 
and the public, while unconscious of the 
fact that many of the most enjoyable 
moments derived from reading news- 
papers have been due to some promoter 
of publicity, has learned that even the 
most enthusiastic press agent sees in 
truthful statements his principal weapon 



for attracting the public's attention. 

The Standard Oil Company was slow 
in learning that secretiveness leads to 
enmity, that frankness prevents hurtful 
exaggeration, and that to become more or 
less intimately acquainted with those who 
levy a contribution on it, is what the 
public thinks- to be its inalienable right. 
The theatrical manager, on the other 
hand, was ahead of times when he first 



THE FINE ART OF GRAND OPERA ADVERTISING 



199 




George Baklanoff 



guessed the true value of publicity, and 
the first press agent had to contend, be- 
sides his other difficulties, with the 
public's unwillingness to admit its eager- 
ness to know the "human interest" side 
of an enterprise. 

Stageland is full of throbbing interest 
to the average person, and so are the 
men and women who people it. For 
years and years, very bitter and rather 



fruitless years, the press agent was 
knocking at the doors of the newspaper 
offices asking the editors to open the 
columns to the stories he was offering. 
Today he is greeted with a welcoming 
handshake, for the editor knows that 
politics and police court news can not 
fill a paper catering to a large clientele, 
and that the press agent is far above 
the ordinary value to him in this respect. 



200 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copyright by Midekin Studio 

Maurice Renaud 



The editor who once refused to 
print the news of an actress' death 
because the notice came from a press 
agent would today be looked upon as 
a curiosity even among a multitude 
of circus sideshow freaks. 
The more an actor or actress, (and 
under these words I include every- 
body purveying entertainment from 
the stage) becomes a favorite with 
the public, the more insatiable grows 
the public's desire to know all about 
this favorite. The editor admits this 
to be a fact, the press agent rejoices 
in it, and everybody is pleased. It 
would seem that all that a press 
agent, or press representative as he 
is called at present out of deference 
to his new position and unwilling- 
ness, prompted by politeness, to refer 
to his past, has to do is to loll back 
in an easy chair in front of a rolltop 
desk, smoke a cigar and answer tele- 
phone calls from editors frantic for 
news, but in reality his path in life is 
far from resembling a path of roses, 
and his work never ceases. 

Every profession produces an 
average type of man or woman, and 
the existence of the average type, 
no matter how romantic the sur- 
roundings, presents after all a dully 
gray aspect that is only occasionally 
relieved by flashes of the unusual. 
To watch for these flashes and to be 
able to detect them when they occur 
is no easy task, and one's attention 
must never flag. But this is but a 
small part of a press agent's duties. 

A press agent must plan his pub- 
licity campaign, much as a general 
would plan his battles, and while the 
deus-ex-machina act is of inestim- 
able help to him, he little depends on 
it in his general calculations. In an 
industrial enterprise such a cam- 
paign is comparatively easy, and one 
possessing a fair knowledge of news- 
paper work and endowed with com- 
mon sense can steer his ship without 
any fear of rocks and shallows, for 
routine work forms the principal 
means of the publicity onslaught. It 



THE FINE ART OF GRAND OPERA ADVERTISING 



201 



is vastly different when the enter- 
prise happens to be a grand opera 
company, in which there is a galaxy 
of stars, all famous, all eager to let 
the public know of their greatness, 
and all nearly equally interesting to 
the public. The work then teems 
with difficulties that would make the 
diplomatic moves in Balkan affairs 
seem child's play. 

Within the short period of one 
year the Boston Opera House has 
come to be looked upon as an in- 
tegral part of the life of the city, so 
much so that it shares the place of 
honor with Boston's other art institu- 
tions such as the Museum of Fine 
Arts, Symphony Hall, etc. Much as 
Bostonians are noted for their cul- 
ture and their love of the artistic, it 
would have been next to impossible 
to make them accept the new home 
of grand opera as one of their city's 
achievements were it not for the 
liberal publicity policy pursued by 
the founders of the Boston Opera 
House. 

Let us suppose that Mr. Eben D. 
Jordan and his associates had adopt- 
ed the tactics of aloofness that man- 
ifest themselves in the customary at- 
titude of the man who is certain of 
doing a big thing, and who refuses to 
let anybody into the secret until the 
work is completed. The Boston 
Opera House would have been erect- 
ed, the famous singers engaged and 
there is no doubt that the artistic 
results would have been as great as 
they were last year, but would the 
Boston Opera House have been 
looked upon as a city institution, 
would it have aroused civic pride as 
it did, and would it have succeeded 
in making the whole civilized world 
recognize Boston as one of the 
world's greatest operatic centres ? It 
might have, but it is very doubtful. 
No enterprise that combines art and 
education in its purpose can reach 
the pinnacle of its aims without the 
impelling force of public approval, 
and such approval can not be ob- 




Copyright by Midekin Studio 

Carmen Melis 



202 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copyright by Aime Uup 



Maria Gay 



tained unless the widest publicity in plans 
and aims prevails. 

From the very inception of the project 
to give Boston an opera house of her 
own, the people at large knew every step 
that had been contemplated, and the 
result is that even Bostonians who have 
not as yet set foot within the portals of 
the Boston Opera House are so intim- 



ately acquainted with all that takes place 
within and in connection with it that 
they have a feeling of being part-owners 
and participants in the conduct of its 
affairs. 

What the Boston newspapers did 
towards this achievement is now a matter 
of history, but with the best of intentions 
on their part they could not have done it 



THE FINE ART OF GRAND OPERA ADVERTISING 



203 









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Photograph by Chickering 



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without the aid of the publicity depart- 
ment of the Boston Opera Company that 
crystallized all that was of interest to the 
public, supplied the editors with the 
material, stood at the beck and call of 
anyone who wanted information, and 
worked day and night in the effort to 
bring the opera house and the public into 
the closest possible relation. 



Aside from all that, the publicity 
department served and serves as the 
ready reference department in everything 
appertaining to opera. Is a new produc- 
tion contemplated? Weeks before, the 
story of the opera, all the information 
about the music, the author's ideas, the 
artists' conceptions of their parts, the 
director's plans, are condensed into 



204 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Copyright by A . Dupont 



Frances Alda 



precise forms ready for the perusal of 
the men at the head of the musical 
departments of the newspapers. Is a 
new artist to appear? His or her bio- 
graphy with such glimpses of personality 
as would be of general interest is at the 
elbow of the editor long before the initial 
curtain rises. Are the directors con- 
templating a new move? No time is lost 
in making this known to the public 



together with all the reasons and ex- 
planations that could be demanded. In a 
word, the press department is, as it is 
intended it should remain, a branch of 
the newspapers of the city, always will- 
ing to serve and frequently anticipating 
the requests. 

Nothing that could be of use to the 
newspapers at any time is overlooked in 
a department of this kind. Portraits, 



THE FINE ART OF GRAND OPERA ADVERTISING 



205 



clippings, everything appertaining to the 
opera house and the opera company are 
to be found on the files of the press 
bureau, and all this is placed at the dis- 
posal of the newspapers whenever they 
think it necessary to acquaint the public 
with some phase of the opera house ac- 
tivity. 

The press department never rests. The 
heads of an enterprise expect this depart- 
ment to make the chief effort to win the 
public's friendship, and the responsibility 
is much greater than it seems to be at the 
first glance. Quick judgment, an abun- 
dance of tact, and a "nose for news" are 
indispensable in men connected with such 
a publicity bureau, and these are only a 
part of their stock in trade, for the press 
agent who can not "write a story" in 
a variety of styles, that can not adapt 
himself to the demands of the different 
editors he comes in contact with, to put 
it briefly, one that is not a top notch news- 
paperman, by instinct if not by profes- 
sion, and in grand opera, one that is not 
a linguist, with five or six languages at 
the tips of his fingers, will vainly hope 



for success in his chosen field. 

Perhaps in Boston conditions were 
somewhat exceptional owing to the ready 
recognition accorded by the newspapers 
to the Boston Opera House project from 
the moment it was first broached, and it 
is needless to reiterate that without such 
newspaper cooperation the press depart- 
ment's activities would resemble the 
fruitfulness of Sahara. If Boston prides 
herself at present on the possession of a 
world famed opera house, next to the 
princely generosity of Eben D. Jordan 
and the genius and the indomitable will 
of Henry Russell, she owes her thanks 
to the men at the helm of the various 
newspapers who never wavered in their 
allegiance to the project, and who have 
again and again given proof that where 
the city's welfare is concerned space 
plays but a small part. 

If the press department has been suc- 
cessful in promoting the interests of the 
Boston Opera House, its chief pride lies 
in the fact that it has succeeded in being 
of real service to the editors. 



After You Had Died 



By FLORENCE KIPER 

Often when life about me flushes red 

When youth is strident with glad rioting, 

When love and light and laughter have their fling, 

Softly I muse "How fares it with the dead? 

Have they pale comfort in their narrow bed, 

Lie they too still to stir at call of Spring, 

Or do their spirits still rejoice in sting 

Of high endeavor urging heart and head?" 



But this I know, if action be the law, 

If the good warfare wages there as now, 

If strife and clamor be on battle-field, 

Then art thou there, a sword, a flame, a shield, 

A perfect knight, unsullied, without flaw, 

With high resolve still glowing on thy brow. 



The Coming Year of the Boston Symphony 

Orchestra 



By ETHEL SYFORD 



THERE are so many reasons for 
saying that the Boston Symphony 
Orchestra is the paramount 
artistic, American achievement 
that the assertion needs no proof. The 
unique temper, as it were, of the whole 
situation becomes an instantaneous intui-, 
■tion, even to the before uninitiated visitor. 
Its steady insistence as to artistic stand- 
ard, the atmosphere of its audiences and 
its performances makes for the most ex- 
hilarating and stimulating of the experi- 
ences which musical culture can afford. 
This bids fair to be a year of some 
especial advantages. Perhaps the most 
notable of these is the coming of Mr. 
Anton Witek as concert-meister. Mr. 
Witek is a Czech and was born in 1872. 
He studied in Prague under Bennewitz 
and in 1894, — twenty-two years old — he 
was made concert-meister of the Berlin 
Philharmonic Orchestra. He has re- 
mained in this position until the present 
season when he comes to America for 
the first time. It is likely that his will 
be a most forceful presence in the 
orchestra. This is the thirtieth season of 
the Orchestra and it is, for the first time, 
to exceed one hundred players. Mr. 
Fiedler has raised the number of bas- 
soons from four to five and instead of 
three trombones there will be four. Also, 
the return of Mr. Schroeder, cellist, will 
be a notable event. Both Mr. Schroeder 
and Mr. Warnke will appear as soloists. 
As regards soloists, there will be fifteen 
-of them ; six singers, two cellists, four 
violinists, three pianists. The singers are 
Mme. Melba and Kirby-Lunn from 
Covent Garden, Miss Farrar and Emmy 
Destuin from the Metropolitan, Gilibert 
from the Manhattan, and Mme. Jomelli. 
Busoni, who was heard last season in the 
Emperor Concerto, is to return this 
season, — this time as composer and 
206 



pianist. His orchestral suite "Turandot" 
is to be given. Mr. Josef Hoffmann, who 
has not appeared in Boston for some 
years, will also be heard; it is said that 
he has developed wonderfully, both tech- 
nically and temperamentally. Mr. Carlo 
Buonamici of Boston, will also appear as 
pianist with the Orchestra. The order of 
violinists will be represented by Francis 
Macmillen and Mischa Elman, Mr. An- 
ton Witek, and Mr. Noack, who played 
so admirably last winter. Mr. Schroeder 
and Mr. Warnke will each appear as 
cello soloist during the season. Melba's 
only appearance in Boston will be at a 
pair of symphony concerts. 

But it is not the "personal equation" 
which carries the preponderance of 
weight in the instance of a Boston Sym- 
phony concert, and it is with the utmost 
interest that we scan the plan of cam- 
paign already advanced by Mr. Fiedler. 
He has most judiciously chosen classics 
that are old and established and classics 
that are younger and romantic and also 
classics from which he must have shaken 
several inches of dust because they are 
so completely overlooked. Out of these 
latter Mr. Fiedler has chosen a composi- 
tion of Beethoven's latter years, — a 
Fugue for string orchestra, — also an 
Adagio and Fugue by Mozart. 

The list also includes a Suite and Two 
Concertos from Bach, two Handel Con- 
certos, a Haydn Symphony, two Sym- 
phonies by Mozart, including the "Jup- 
iter," and the second, third, Pastoral, 
seventh and the Choral Symphonies by 
Beethoven, as well as his "Leonore," 
"Coriolan," and "Egmont" overtures ; 
Mendelssohn's Overture to "The Fair 
Melusina" and his Italian Symphony; 
Schubert's Symphony in C major ; Schu- 
mann's in D minor and in E flat, also the 
Overture, Scherzo and Finale to "Man- 



THE COMING YEAR OF THE BOSTON SYMPHONY 



207 



fred;" and the "Freischutz," "Eury- 
anthe" and "Oberon" overtures of 
"Weber." The list of more modern 
classics includes Berlioz's "Carneval" and 
"King Lear" overtures and his "Harold 
Symphony" and fragments from his 
"Damnation of Faust" and the "Love 
Scene" and "Queen Mab" scherzo from 
his Romeo and Juliet music ; Brahms will 
be represented by his "Academie" over- 



man," Kimsky-Korsakoff's Oriental tale 
of an Arab hero, "Antar," Tschai- 
kowsky's symphonic ballad of "The 
Voyvode" and his Second Suite. 

Perhaps Liszt's "Dante Symphony" 
will be awaited with curious interest be- 
cause it has not been heard here for 
twenty years. The work is dedicated to 
Richard Wagner, who considered it a 
masterful creation of great genius. He 




Anton Witek, Concert Master, Boston Symphony Orchestra 



ture, one of his Serenades and his first 
and third symphonies; Saint Saens 
"Dance Macabre," "Omphale's Wheel;" 
Goldmark's Sakuntala Overture ; Lschai- 
kowsky's "Pathetique" and "Manfred" 
symphonies, his Suite for Strings and his 
overture to "Romeo and Juliet;" Wag 
ner's Venusberg music in Tannhauser, 
the apotheosis of Siegfried in "Gotter- 
dammerung" and the "Good Friday 
Spell" in Parsifal, the Kaisermarsch and 
the Siegfried Idyll ; Cecar Franck's 
romantic tone poem, "The Wild Hunts- 



prized it as one of the astonishing works 
of all music. Wagner considered that 
Liszt, in his Dante Symphony, had "out- 
Danted" Dante. He said "Dies ist die 
Seele des Danteschen Gedictes in reinster 
Verklarung." The themes are original 
and dramatic and though the treatment is 
audacious, a religous enthusiasm glows 
throughout the work. This is the work 
of the Abbe Liszt. He has not con- 
structed a conventional symphony. He 
has disregarded the usual divisions and 
the usual contrasted movements and 



208 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



periodic structure. The thematic and 
structural treatment are unorthodox. 
Liszt has kept in mind the poetic idea and 
expressed it sincerely in tone. This 
symphony is, therefore, not chaotic or 
formless merely because it does not ad- 
here to the dance form structure of the 
conventional symphony. In fact, the 
poetic concepts of the Divine Comedy 
would not wear the dance-form clothes of 
the regular symphonic structure with 
fitness. The motives are very impressive 
and strikingly characteristic and definite 
in conception. The work is in three 
divisions, Hell, Purgatory and Paradise. 
Perhaps the most impressive moment in 
the Symphonie is at the very beginning 
where the Brasses read out the inscrip- 
tion over the gates of Hell. Liszt refused 
to write a program for the work, but 
from the insistent recurrence and dram- 
atic manner in which the monotonous 
phrase "Lasciate ogni speranza voi 
ch'entrate" interrupts and comments 
upon the episodes of the poem, it is 
evident that Liszt interpreted Dante's 
ethics to mean that the inhabitants of the 
Inferno were forever conscious of the 
hopelessne:s of their state. The An- 
dante amoroso which depicts the Fran- 
cesca da Rimini episode is certainly one 
of the attractive moments. This is in 
seven four measure, and for the most 
part, with muted strings. And this 
episode is suddenly interrupted by a solo 
horn whose muffled tones of eternal 
despair chant the "Lasciate," etc. The 
principal theme of "Purgatory" begins in 
choral style and at its close gives place to 
a "Lamentoso" in fugal form, the instru- 
mentation and treatment of which are 
remarkable. At the climax of the fugue, 
the choral motive previously given is 
most impressively introduced but grad- 
ually fades away, now and then interrupt- 
ed by bits of mournful recitative, an un- 
seen chorus and a solo voice to which the 
chorus responds, intone the Magnificat. 
This portion is full of mediaeval Pal- 
estrina-like effects and the whole work 
ends in a victorious transport of joy. 
Tt is remarked that the "Inferno" is the 
most interesting portion. 



Schopenhauer said that Dante con- 
structed a very respectable Hell because 
there was so much material for it in this 
our actual world but that he encoun- 
tered insuperable difficulties with heaven 
and its joys because this world contained 
absolutely no material for such a thing. 

Henry Labouchere said, "Liszt's 
Dante music reminded him of the scenes 
of heaven and hell carved over the west- 
ern doors of Amiens Cathedral. Here 
the devils have a fine time of it frying 
the damned. But heaven is a poor and 
dull affair. Directly Liszt gets out of 
hell he ceases to be interesting." At any 
rate, it is a powerful work. There is a 
solemnity and massiveness about this 
Dante Symphony which is bound to be 
profoundly impressive and the more so 
because it is so rarely given. 

Among the contemporary composers 
are "Don Quixote," "Heldensleben" and 
"Tod und Verklarung" by Strauss; 
Reger's "Variation and Fugue" and 
"Serenade," Macdowell's "Indian Suite," 
Sgambati's Symphony in D major and 
an orchestral Te Deum; Glazounow's 
"Suite" and "Scenes de Ballet;" Rez- 
nicek's overture to "Donna Diana" and 
Humperdinck's "In a Moorish Cafe" ; 
Debussy's Nocturnes, Petite Suite, two 
of the "Images" for orchestra, both for 
the first time ; Strauss's tone poem "Mac- 
beth," will also be heard for the first 
time, also DTndy's "Istar." One of the 
most interesting works, also new to Bos- 
ton, will be Rachmaninoff's E minor 
Symphony. After the almost reverential 
admiration and enthusiasm which this 
Russian deservedly evoked last year, any 
mention of him awakens interest, for he 
is as thoroughly sane as he is great. 
Another work of much interest will be 
Mahler's great second symphony for 
orchestra, chorus and solo voices. It 
was recently given in Munich — "The 
new piece, quite a gigantic affair is said 
to represent the first serious attempt 
since Beethoven's Choral Symphony to 
combine with a purely instrumental in- 
terpretation realistic vocal effects. A 
German musician who has examined the 
score, describes the work as a symphony 



THE BOSTON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA 



209 




Copyright by Garo 

Geraldine Farrar, Soloist with Boston Symphony Orchestra 



with a vocal obligato wherein human 
voices blend with the instruments in an 
altogether novel and harmonious fashion. 
The symphony consists of two parts, the 
first based on the hymn, "Veni Creator 
Spiritus," composed by the Archbishop 
of Mayence, while the Finale is a setting 
of the closing scene of Goethe's "Faust." 
In the ranks of the choir, numbering 
eight hundred and fifty singers, will be 
found the three choral societies of 



Vienna, Leipzig and Munich. There will 
be an immense orchestra of eighty-six 
strings, very full wood-wind, celesta, 
harmoniums, organ, mandolin, and many 
instruments of percussion." 

Last year we heard a rendition of 
"Paris" by Delius and found it full of 
rich imagination. This winter we shall 
hear the variations on a negro folk song, 
"Appalachia," with chorus, a "Dance 
Rhapsody" and two Rhapsodies, "Briggs 



210 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 








vl* '■ '%, 



M 



Melba, Soloist with Boston Symphony Orchestra 



Fair" and "In a Summer Garden." 
Delius is spoken of as an Englishman 
but his parents were Germans. If one 
be judging him by his tastes and musical 
tendency it would be more fair to speak 
of him as a cosmopolitan. He is now 
-about forty-eight years old. He studied 
with Jadassohn and Reinecke but is not 
at all enthusiastic over their assistance. 
He has many compositions of interest. 
Several of his operas are spoken of as 



very dramatic, among them being 
"Romeo und Julie auf dem Dorfe." He 
has also written a piano concerto for 
Busoni and a Danish set of songs with 
accompaniment for orchestra and also 
has made some settings for some poems 
of Nietzsche. He has been spoken of as 
having imbibed a good deal of the 
Debussy spirit, but it might be possible 
that nature endowed him with much the 
same kind of interpretation and that he 



THE BOSTON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA 



211 




Emmy Destinn, Soloist with Boston Symphony Orchestra 



did not imbibe it. At any rate his operas 
follow no tradition but his own convic- 
tion and inspiration. His orchestration 
does show the same influences as those 
which moulded and dominate the modern 
French school. August Spanuth calls 
him a half brother of Charles Martin 
Loeffler. In answer to the assertion that 
he has traits in common with Puccini and 



Debussy, a letter which Delius wrote to 
Mr. Spanuth may explain: "I am not 
the sort of man that would deny his 
musical parentage and therefore it will 
interest you to know that the first note I 
ever heard of Debussy was his opera, 
"Pelleas and Melisande," given in the 
spring of 1902 in Paris. My work, 
"Romeo und Julie auf dem Dorfe," was 



212 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



then entirely finished and had been in 
Rome for three months in the hands of 
Schmitt, who did the piano score. I 
have never yet heard a note of Puccini's 
music. The resemblance with Debussy 
can only come from us both being in- 
fluenced by Chopin, Wagner and a little 
by Grieg." 

We are to hear, for a second time, the 
second Symphony of Sibelius and "Fin- 
landia" and, for the first time, "Karelia," 
the incidental music to Strindberg's fairy 
play, "Swan White," and the tone poem 
of "The Swan of Tuonela." Bantock, 
the Englishman, will be represented by 
three "dramatic dances" ; Bossi's "Inter- 
mezzi," two rhapsodies by Enesco; the 
orchestral sketch, "Baba Jaga," by 
Liadow of the neo-Russian cult; Had- 
ley, the American, in "The Culprit Fay" ; 
Halm, a concerto for orchestra piano and 
organ ; Mandl's "Overture to a Gascon 
Comedy." Nicode, the Belgian com- 
poser, will be heard in two Scherzi from 
his orchestral and choral piece, "Gloria." 
Noveni was heard in a set of variations 
several years ago and this time it will be 
in a Suite for orchestra; another called 
a "Finnish Suite," by Palmgren. Scria- 
bine, the Russian, will be represented by 
an "Ecstatic Poem." There is also a 
serenade of much charm by Leo Wiener. 

Mr. Fiedler also announces the tone 
poem after Maeterlinck's "La Mort de 
Tintagiles," by Charles Martin Loeffier. 
Aside from Debussy there is no one alive 
who is so sensitively appreciative through 
the processes of tone of the mystic 
subtleties of Maeterlinck. The drama, 
"La Mort de Tintagiles" is terrible and 
tragic but it is beautifully tragic, not 
baldly so, and Loeffier is acutely, sen- 
sitively attuned to this intensity. It 
would seem that he had assimilated the 
substance rather than translated the con- 
cept to tone. It is the strongest, most 
intense passion and the more so because 
it is crystallized. The work ends with 
a most enchanting and exquisite tender- 
ness which is a sort of after effect, as it 
were, of the spell he has already cast. 
Though it has no analogue in the drama 
it springs from Mr. Loeffler's intuitive 
insistence upon unified and absolute and 
rhythmic beauty rather than upon 



realism. His complete responsiveness to 
Maeterlinck, — mystic, symbolist and 
repressionist, — mark Mr. Loeffler as a 
unique tone poet. The only trouble is 
that, like Maeterlinck, his genius is so 
sensitively refined to the essence of 
things that the realist who demands the 
accidents of ordinary life for his intel- 
lectual manna has no point of tangency. 

Mr. Fiedler has chosen with discretion. 
The list is interesting and representative, 
— representative of the various schools 
and of orchestral history and of Mr. 
Fiedler's taste for the graphic romantics. 
He brings every detail of Richard 
Strauss to the eye as well as to the ear. 
I have neglected to say that father 
Bruckner is not to be slighted and we 
shall hear the "Romantic Symphony" in 
its best light. 

This will make the third consecutive 
yearly performance of Beethoven's ninth 
or choral and colossal symphony, — but 
it must be remembered that this is 
America and that opportunities for this 
work to be heard in this land of ours, at 
least in an at all competent way, are few. 

The list of moderns is very generous 
and includes the most of the newer talent 
of which we are all curious to know 
something. It will be noticed that Mac- 
dowell's Indian Suite, LoefHer's "La 
Mort de Tintagiles" and Hadley's Rhap- 
sody represent the American constitu- 
ency. 

The orchestra will give one hundred 
and seventeen concerts in all and in ad- 
dition to the regular Symphony concerts 
it will give three concerts in connection 
with the Cecilia Society, one upon 
December first, one on February six- 
teenth and one on Good Friday, April 
fourteenth. At each of these concerts 
the entire orchestra and the entire Cecilia 
Society will appear and each perform- 
ance will be conducted by Mr. Fiedler. 
At the first concert, the work to be 
presented will be Bantock's "Omar 
Khayam," at the second concert the 
"Children's Crusade by Pierne," and on 
Good Friday, Bach's "Passion According 
to Saint Matthew." 

As will be noticed, the choice of 
soloists for the regular Symphony con- 
certs affords a list of artists every one of 



THE BOSTON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA 213 

whom for various and many reasons, will musicians, the presentation of works 
attract compelling and enthusiastic in- which will without doubt excite the ut- 
terest. As usual they are all artists of most interest and many other reasons 
established international reputation and warrant the assertion that this will be a 
in several instances are chosen from the year of exceptional and enthusiastic con- 
choirs of the orchestra itself and in the cern to the scholarly musician, the 
case of Mr. Buonamici, of established amateur or the music lover, — it matters 
local recognition. The coming of Mr. not which, for in the presence of refined 
Witek, the return of Mr. Schroeder, the and authoritative and artistic musical 
increasing loyalty and admiration of production real enjoyment is bound to be 
Symphony audiences for Mr. Fiedler's in store, even for the uninitiated, 
ability, the increased size of the band of 



Whither 

By CLARENCE H. URNER 

Ah, who may tell me where 
The music floated to its death? 
Can it have perished as the breath 
That woke the mute reed from despair 
Will it forever more forbear 

To rouse the slumbering air? 

And tell me whither went 
The fragrance of the flowering spray 
Dropped lifeless in the garden way? 
When will the gale come back to scent 
The bloomless plant where time is spent 

In dreams of discontent ? 

When loosed from Slumber's hold, 
In what far clime do dreams abide, 
And where do fleeing rainbows hide? 
Can they return in selfsame mold, 
And dew, dissolved, once more enfold 

A Heaven of blue and gold? 

And when the prophet's gift, 
From steadfast gazing, yields to sleep, 
And visions from their mooring sweep, 
O'er what strange ocean do they drift 
Where sunlight gleams, or shadows shift 

And vapors never lift? 

Ah me, not perished quite 
The music stilled, the fragrance shed, 
The vanished dream, the rainbow fled : 
Their spirits haunt the day and night, 
And fill the poet's soul with light 

Past reach of outer sight. 



Saint Lincoln 



By ALICE M. HEAVEN 



IT was the hour of vespers in the 
little village of Prato, Tuscany. The 
harsh bell was clanging from the 
Campanile in the piazza where rises 
the great Duomo. A group of toothless 
hags, wrapped in shawls, an assortment 
of old men, some on crutches, some blind, 
some palsied, knelt on the stone pave- 
ment near the lamp-lit altar. Four or 
five ragged children crept toward the 
shining light gleaming from the silver 
statuette of the Virgin which glittered 
amid the soft glow of flickering waxen 
candles. The cathedral was cold and 
dark, save where here and there before 
a chapel or a shrine, a lamp burned. 
Little Angelo, and his foster brother 
Carlos, were in attendance today at the 
altar, upon Padre Christofera, who 
mumbled the service between the pauses 
made by the whining organ up in the loft. 
The two acolytes, robed in crimson, with 
their torn chausables of priceless lace, 
bobbed their courtesies mechanically, be- 
fore the altar. Angelo had long ago con- 
fided to Carlos that he did not believe 
the Holy Madonna cared for him. After 
all why should she ? Was he not a com- 
parative stranger in Prato? Had he not 
come from the great Hospital of the In- 
nocents in Florence, brought to Prato by 
the good old Padre Christofero and 
lodged in the home of Carlos' father and 
mother? Now that he was old enough 
to be helpful, he lived with the priest in 
the room behind the sacristy, and pol- 
ished the silver sconces, swept and dust- 
ed the cathedral, and showed the visitors 
the wonders enshrined there ; the peeling 
frescoes, the great vellum-bound music 
books, and above all the miracle-working 
"Cintola," or girdle of the Holy Virgin 
herself, one of the most famous relics in 
all Italy. Angelo loved the cathedral, 
every nook and corner, every bit of carv- 
214 



ing — every inch of it, but his prayers 
were no longer dedicated to "La Virgen 
de la Cintola." The time had been when 
he had spent many of the soldi given him 
by the rich American and English visit- 
ors, to burn candles before her shrine 
but she had never answered his prayers, 
she had never revealed to him the where- 
abouts of his father and mother, or 
shown him where he might find the only 
toy that he had ever possessed, his be- 
loved wooden donkey, Pasto, which had 
been stolen from the altar in the chapel 
of Saint Stephen where Antonio had 
carelessly left it one day. No, the lonely 
child had not found the Virgin of the 
Girdle responsive; probably she was 
much too busy to attend to the petitions 
of a little foundling, but long ago, three 
years ago now, Antonio had made a great 
discovery, and since then all his sceptical 
thoughts had been routed. 

One by one the beggars and market 
women, the toddling bambinos, and 
ragazzos, the soldier with the wooden leg, 
old Marco, the potter, and Mercedes, the 
straw plaiter, passed out into the square. 
Antonio and Carlos scrambled up on the 
altar and extinguished the two tall white 
candles, threw a dirty cloth over the 
silver statuette, and fastened the doors 
of the beautifully wrought iron screen 
before the altar. Their chores done, An- 
tonio was left alone in the great, cold, 
bare cathedral where now but three lights 
burned. The child, however, knew ex- 
actly where to go. Holding up his long, 
crimson skirts, he groped his way along 
by the row of cane-bottomed chairs in 
the side aisle, past the deserted chapels, 
to a niche in the wall close to one of the 
side entrances. It was a door rarely 
used except upon a great festa, such as 
that of the Corpus Christi, when the 
carved panels were thrown back to allow 



SAINT LINCOLN 



215 



the peasants with their lighted candles to 
enter in the procession. In the niche was 
a statue. Long, long ago, a piece of the 
cornice from the organ loft above had 
fallen, and had taken with it the saintly 
nose, lips, and cheeks of the figure, had 
broken off the outstretched hand, and 
had amputated one of the large toes pro- 
truding from the sandalled foot. There 
was no one in Prato who knew the name 
of this mutilated saint. His history had 
been forgotten, his symbol evidently had 
been held in his lost hand, but whether 
it had been the palm of martyrdom, the 
pen of erudition, or the scroll of revela- 
tion, none could say. Alone, neglected, 
spurned, stood the poor saint in his dark 
niche by the barred door, until the day 
that the foundling Antonio, grieved by 
the neglect of the great Virgin in her 
glittering shrine, had discovered him and 
claimed him as his own. What could be 
more appropriate ? For this saint, name- 
less, poor, despised and neglected surely 
could understand the heart-aches of a 
companion in misfortune, the saint 
without a crown or symbol, the saint 
who, like the little Antonio himself, was 
forgotten by the world. 

There was never a day in the year that 
the shrine was left without a votive 
offering. In August, a garland of pop- 
pies made a bright bit of color against 
the grey stone. In October, a cross of 
wheat or a bough of ripe olives lay upon 
the pedestal, but in winter most often a 
candle gleamed there, set in a straw 
Chiante flask which Antonio had ingeni- 
ously secured with a string to the ankle 
of the saint. No one guessed the boy's 
secret love, for he crept to the shrine 
only when the cathedral was deserted. 

Padre Christofero allowed Antonio a 
small allowance from his earnings every 
week. The boy was scrupulously honest, 
for it would have been very easy for him 
to have kept back some of the money 
which the tourists gave him. In the 
spring season when visitors came every 
day in the little steam tram from Flor- 
ence to visit the old city, once adorned 
by Pisano and Donatello, he earned as 
much as five and six francs a day. An- 
tonio had plenty of use for his money, 
although he was fed and clothed by the 



Padre. He spent every cent that he 
could scrape together upon his music, for 
it was his ambition to become an organist, 
and perhaps some day he would be able 
to play sublime masses for the repose of 
souls, as he had heard them played in the 
church of the Annunciate in Florence 
now two Easters ago, when he had gone 
thither with old Giovanni, who had to be 
guided through the crowded streets. Yet, 
Antonio did not neglect his saint, and 
to-day he hurried forward full of ex- 
citement, for in his hand he held a won- 
derful candle which he had commis- 
sioned his friend Lorenzetto, the silver- 
smith, to buy him in Rome, a candle 
which had cost him two lire. 

"Ah, amico mio !" exclaimed Antonio, 
as he scratched a match on the stone 
ledge, "Buon Giorno. See, what I have 
brought thee — a new candle, Signor, a 
candle from the great city of Rome, 
where His Holiness lives. Securamente I 
Thou canst not see it poverino, therefore 
I will describe it. It is long, amico, let 
me see, three times as long as my middle 
finger, and rather thin, but listen, amico. 
All the way up the stem are roses in pink 
and yellow wax, with tiny green leaves, 
Signor, roses but no thorns. It burns 
delightfully, and smells most sweet. 
Now I will say an Ave, but first let me 
remind thee again, oh, powerful saint, 
that thou hast not attended to the little 
matter of which I spoke last week. Has 
thou perhaps forgotten, that it is neces- 
sary for me to obtain the consent of 
Padre Christofero before I can spend 
two hours every morning at the organ? 
Only a miracle can induce old Mercedes 
to pump the air for me. I might suggest 
that there are many idle children in 
paradise, or perhaps in purgatory, who 
could assist her. The pictures in Flor- 
ence showed many such, but pardon me, 
Signor, for my great impatience. It is 
not for my self alone that I wish to be- 
come a great musician, but that in that 
way I may earn money, so that some day 
I shall be able to take thee from this 
dirty niche, and restore to thee, all that 
thou hast lost, the sight of thine eyes, 
the use of thy hand, and the worship of 
the people. I know that it can be done, 
for in Florence, many artists live by per- 



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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



forming miracles upon the ancient saints. 

The candle-light flickered over the still 
figure. Grotesque indeed it appeared in 
the dim niche, an almost shapeless mass 
of stone, and yet in that outline, there 
lurked still the mystery of a great artist's 
ideal. The child pressed his little cheek 
against the cold robe, and caressed with 
his warm glance the beautiful candle. 
In his heart surged a great love, un- 
tamed and fierce which, restless as the 
ocean, beat forever against this rock. 

Looking back upon that cold Autumnal 
evening, it seemed to Antonio that it was 
the dividing line between two distinct 
lives, for the following day who should 
surprise Padre Christofero but his idol- 
ized nephew, Francesco Bimbi, who five 
years ago, had run away to America. He 
had been a merry, rosy-cheeked, curly- 
haired lad, always darting in and out of 
the old sacristy like one of the swallows 
who build their nests beneath Donatello's 
wonderful pulpit, adorned with singing 
children placed high on the facade of the 
Duomo. Since his departure, two letters 
had been received from him, one stating 
that he was in New York, employed in a 
fruit store ; the second, that he was near 
Boston, and had taken a wife — a wife 
at twenty years of age. 

The truant's mother, a widow, still 
lived in Prato, a straw-plaiter. At any 
hour of the day, one could see her stand- 
ing in the doorway of her dark little hut, 
with the roll of yellow straw tucked un- 
der her arm, and her fingers moving 
mechanically between the intricate 
strands. Mona Teresa was thrifty and 
prosperous, but she constantly mourned 
her son. It was on the day after An- 
tonio's long intercession in the cathedral, 
that as Mona Teresa was standing at 
the fountain awaiting her turn to fill her 
copper pitcher, a tall young man had 
touched her on the elbow, asking in 
English, "May I have a drink of water, 
Mamma?" Mona Teresa turned to see 
her son, six feet, broad-shouldered, 
merry-eyed, with the same roguish smile 
that he had had when as a small boy he 
had chased the pigeons in the square. 

The mother and son rushed over to the 
sacristy to acquaint Padre Christofero 
of the return of the Prodigal. Then 



there was a feast of many good things 
which Francesco paid for in bright 
American gold, and during the long 
afternoon the group, including, of course, 
the spell-bound Antonio, sat about the 
hot fire of rosemary in the room behind 
the sacristy, and the wanderer told a 
marvellous tale to his audience of three, 
while Mona Teresa plaited furiously, 
her lips pressed together. 

It seemed that the son, so long neg- 
lectful, wished now to make some 
amends, and take his mother to America, 
to the cottage by the sea; but no, Mona 
Teresa was inflexible. She would never 
live with a daughter-in-law, nor in a 
country where she could not say her 
prayers to the Virgin of the Cintola, nor 
where there was no such common neces- 
sity as Chianti, or red wine. All the 
eloquent pleadings of Francesco were in 
vain. 

But Padre Christofero was not so 
obstinate. He listened intently to his 
nephew's tale. For some time past, the 
mind of the old priest had been greatly 
perplexed as to the future of Antonio. 
He could not swallow his pride so far as 
to send the boy to the village school or- 
ganized by his enemies, the Liberals, who 
had closed the great monastery, and set 
the poor brothers adrift in the world, the 
Liberals who had humiliated and 
scourged the Church, which Padre 
Christofero loved far better than his life, 
and moreover, what future was there 
now in Italy for a son of the Church? 
He put many keen questions to Fran- 
cesco. Yes, the young man assured him 
that there was every religious advantage 
in America, the missionaries had evident- 
ly reaped a great harvest of souls, for 
churches rose everywhere, some with 
pointed spires, some with noble columns, 
some were of brick, some of marble, and 
some only of wood, but what did that 
matter to the one true God? and as for 
schools ! there in the village of Granite 
Cove was a splendid school which pre- 
pared both boys and girls to enter the 
great universities in Boston ; a school en- 
tirely free to the public. 

Antonio was dazed when Padre Chris- 
tofero put the proposition before him. 
Go to America, leave the Padre and the 



SAINT LINCOLN 



217 



cathedral, leave his playmate, Carlos, and 
old Giovanni, leave his dear saint alone in 
his niche? Yet, there is in the heart of 
the young, a leaping flame, and suddenly, 
Antonio yearned to go forth to the great 
land across the sea, where Francesco de- 
clared there were no beggars, no blind, 
nor lame, and where there was gold and 
food for everyone. 

It was a sad hour for Antonio which 
he spent on the afternoon before his de- 
parture for Naples and for America. He 
knelt long before his adopted saint, while 
hot tears fell one by one upon the cold 
grey stone. "Thou hast given me an 
answer to my prayer, amico," he sobbed, 
"and I should indeed be ungrateful if I 
refused thy bounty. Thou hast provided 
the passage, the raiment, the companion 
even, for my voyage to America, and 
such a miracle assures me of thy great 
love for me, unworthy as I am, amico. 
One thought fills me with deep sadness. 
When I am gone who will minister to 
thee ? Thy niche will be unadorned with 
flowers, no candle will flicker upward. 
Thou will be alone — alone — yet dear 
saint, never, never will I forget thee. 
Listen attentively now, dear amico. I 
go to a small village by the Atlantic, near 
the great town of Boston — many ships 
go there. The name of the village is 
Granite Cove, see, here, have I written 
down the name and that of Francesco. 
I will place them here in this crack so 
that there will be no chance of any mis- 
take — for dear saint, Padre Christofero 
tells me solemnly that the saints can 
easily go to America if they will — that 
many have already found their way there. 
Think me not presumptuous, but there is 
no one here in all Prato, signor, who 
loves thee as I do, no one, no one." Sud- 
denly the child clasped the feet of the 
statue and broke into a passion of tears. 
"Promise, promise," he murmured again 
and again, "that thou wilt come to me, 
amico ?" 

And now a new life began for An- 
tonio. The wonderful sea voyage over, 
he arrived in the city of Boston, the im- 
mensity of which bewildered the village 
boy. It was a city far, far larger than 
Florence, and yet there was no great 
cathedral there, while the campanile in 



the public square was but an imitation ! 
The boy was shocked, and disturbed, by 
this evidence of paganism. After wan- 
dering about the city for a few hours, he 
and the lively Francesco were borne 
away by train to Granite Cove. The 
child found an exquisitely clean New 
England village, where every street led 
to the rocks by the great, green sea. Oh, 
that sea ! Could anything be more won- 
derful, more fascinating, and at times 
more terrible? 

Antonio developed a passion for the 
sea. It was that alone, he learned, which 
divided him from Italy, from Prato, and 
the shrine in the great cathedral, where 
alone now, and neglected, his only friend 
waited for his return. In the heart of 
the little child, lay latent a passion for 
comforting, for sustaining, and it was not 
the loss of a counseller that he mourned 
so much as the agonizing certainty that 
his saint was suffering in loneliness and 
isolation. He would creep to the edge of 
the cliffs and gaze with yearning over the 
tossing waters, whispering softly, "Pa- 
tience, amico, patience, I will soon re- 
turn !" 

What a consolation it was to the im- 
aginative child when he made friends 
with the old keeper of the lighthouse, 
and was allowed to climb the steps of the 
tower where the great revolving lamp 
burned, casting its searching ray athwart 
the cruel reefs, a guide to the vessels that 
sought the shelter of the harbour town. 
"Some day, perhaps," argued Antonio, 
"my friend will see this light, and he will 
understand." 

Antonio thought that he had never 
seen anything more delightful than the 
house in which Francesco and his pretty 
wife, Martha, lived. There were soft, 
bright carpets everywhere, and bright 
lamps ; the heat came into every room 
through a grating in the wall, so that 
even in winter when the snow was piled 
upon the porch, the interior of the house 
was like summer. And the store too, 
was splendid, situated on the Main street 
facing the Common, where everything 
happened. It was stocked with choice 
foreign fruit, but there were many other 
commodities sold there as well ; jars of 
glistening canned fruit, fine groceries and 



218 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



candies, and in summer, Antonio learned, 
the marble fountain overflowed with a 
delicious beverage known as "soda 
water." 

The child was entered at once at the 
big public school, where at first all was a 
babel of sounds, but he was quick and 
attentive, and the strange English words 
soon percolated through his brain. At 
the end of the first term, he was able to 
take his place among boys very little 
y r ounger than himself, for by nature he 
was far above the average intellect. 

Then of course there was his religious 
life, which once had been his one absorb- 
ing interest. Antonio attended the ser- 
vices of the church with a devotion which 
excited the ridicule of his more unemo- 
tional companions. To be sure the build- 
ing itself did not please the boy's artistic 
sense. It was frame, with a painted 
spire surmounted by a golden ball the 
pride of the village. The windows of 
plain glass looked into an old graveyard 
where the monuments were of granite 
cut from the rocks by the sea. There 
were no pictures, no carved stalls, no 
lighted candles to be seen within the 
church. A great stove shed a ruddy 
glow of light upon the glistening pews of 
painted pine, upon the crimson carpet 
and the two high-backed chairs in the 
chancel. Antonio had no idea that he 
was now a member of the Methodist 
Episcopal church of America, for the boy 
had never heard of the many roads lead- 
ing toward Truth. To the child, no 
glimmer of suspicion darkened his mind 
as he sat Sunday after Sunday with 
Martha in the big pew, and after count- 
ing the buttons on the back of the white 
shirtwaists so tantalizingly exposed to 
view along the rows of pews, and specu- 
lating as to the reason that the minister 
cleared his throat so often, his mind wan- 
dered far away to Prato with his beloved 
saint. 

But as time went on Antonio's mind 
was puzzled. These Americans seemed 
to be so indifferent to his friends, the 
Saints, that mysterious company, who in 
reality formed his most intimate kin and 
acquaintance. And as for a native saint, 
such a thing evidently had never been 
heard of! 



Antonio's most prized friend in Granite 
Cove was a certain boy called Barthol- 
omew, an American. The boy's progeni- 
tors had lived in New England since the 
days of the witchcraft delusion in Salem, 
for it was then that with many others, 
they had fled the crazed community of 
the Salem township, and had taken ref- 
uge in the caves upon the commons, 
dug beneath the boulders by the terrified 
refugees. Later, the family had settled 
at Granite Cove, and had for generations, 
lived in a picturesque, gabled house, fac- 
ing one of the quarries. Perhaps An- 
tonio had been drawn to the quaint, reti- 
cent Bartholomew because of the strong 
contrast between the natures of the two 
boys. Bartholomew was independent 
and pugnacious, extremely practical and 
clever and was bent upon the earning of 
money. He too, had an ambition. It was 
to become a cod fisher, and sail out with 
the white-winged fleet northward, court- 
ing death, to return with the gleaming 
nets weighted with silver-scaled fish. 

One day in March, the two boys went 
out on the downs to seek for some sign 
of Spring. The wind was sweet and 
fresh, and the snow lay in patches in the 
crannies of the granite boulders, but in 
the low, swampy ground were quantities 
of blue hyacinths, and these, the children 
gathered with delight. 

It was upon this occasion that Antonio 
broached the subject of American saint- 
hood. 

"I don't know what you mean," retort- 
ed the freckle-faced Yankee. "Saints ! 
You say there are hundreds in Italy. 
How do they live mostly, by fishing?" 

"Well," replied Antonio thoughtfully, 
"the first saints were fishermen, but the 
saints don't have to think about earning 
a living — they help people." 

"What kind of help?" asked Barthol- 
omew sceptically. 

"Why all kinds. You pray to them, 
and bring them flowers and burn candles 
before them. In Italy the saints live in 
the cathedrals, and outside they are all 
stone or marble, like statues." 

Bartholomew looked frankly puzzled, 
and then a sudden idea struck him. "Oh, 
certain ! We have saints here in New 
England, only they live out on the Com- 



SAINT LINCOLN 



219 



3non — it's healthier I guess. Our saints 
always fight for the country before they 
die, and then they have statues put up to 
them — why certainly." 

"No, no," persisted Antonio. "That's 
not what I mean at all. These are differ- 
ent. In Italy, we have statues of Gari- 
baldi in every town, but Padre Christo- 
fero says he was a wicked man, and 
loved power. Saints live just for others, 
they are always doing wonderful things 
that no ordinary man could possibly do 
for himself — " 

"Gee, I know!" exclaimed Barthol- 
omew. "Why didn't you say it the first 
time? You're talking about congress- 
men." 

Antonio looked intensely interested. 

Congressmen," continued Barthol- 
omew, "do a lot for folks — that's why we 
'lect them. My father, you know, is on 
the town council. I heard him tell my 
mother that Lawyer Steele was elected 
to Washington last fall 'cause he prom- 
ised to present a bill before Congress 
asking for the new pier. You see, the 
granite cutters were all out of work — " 

"Perhaps you are right," returned the 
courteous Antonio. "But in Italy, before 
you can be a saint you must be dead hun- 
dreds of years." 

"Gee!" retorted Bartholomew. "Our 
country isn't as ramshackle and rickety 
as yours. Everything is brand new and 
up to date here. You must be talking 
about ghosts, and mother says it's wicked 
to believe in them." 

Antonio walked home in the violet 
twilight. Never before had he felt so 
homesick. Suppose his dear saint should 
come to America ! Where could he find 
a refuge? The boy felt dimly that there 
was no soil here for the precious root 
torn from Italy to thrive in. 

Summer came to the North Shore. 
The bleak winds gave place to the fra- 
grant, salt-spiced breezes which rustled 
the swaying branches of the stately elm 
trees bordering the roadways. In every 
garden bloomed the clustering rambler 
roses of crimson and pink, tall holly- 
hocks nodded over the hedges, crimson 
poppies glowed by the stone walls, and 
the joyous notes of the song sparrow 
rose from the pungent wild bay which 



crowned the boulders scattered over the 
rolling downs by the sea. 

Antonio was more contented, and his 
days passed swiftly. He spent hours 
rowing through the coves gathering sea- 
weed, and setting his lobster pot, which 
he owned in partnership with Barthol- 
omew. There was a great demand for 
all sea food at the big hotels along the 
coast, and Antonio was tasting the in- 
toxicating experience of independence 
now, for he was beginning to earn 
enough for his own support. Money was 
plentiful at Granite Cove during the sum- 
mer season, and came to the boy through 
many channels. Sometimes he hired 
himself out to the owner of the Sweet 
Pea farm, and would carry baskets of 
the many-hued blossoms to the piazzas 
of the hotels, where the gayly dressed 
visitors flitted by, intent upon wresting 
from the fleeting summer all the health 
compatible with a merry vacation. Some- 
times he was a caddy, and earned a good- 
ly sum by carrying the bag of clubs for 
some golf enthusiast along the course 
bordering the sea. At this rate, it seemed 
to Antonio that he would soon be a mil- 
lionaire and would be able to realize his 
dream of returning to Italy to spend the 
rest of his life in the joy of music, and 
in the care of his saint. 

Shortly after Antonio's introduction 
to Granite Cove, one of the townspeople 
died, a rich widow who had returned to 
the village by the sea to spend her declin- 
ing years. There was no one in Granite 
Cove who did not mourn the death of 
Madam Laurence, for there was scarcely 
a soul there who had not in some way 
felt the influence of her noble nature. It 
was she who had lifted the crushing debt 
from the little church which Martha and 
Antonio attended, who had collected 
funds for the public library, and had 
equipped the gymnasium of the "Young 
Men's Christian Association." It was 
Madam Laurence who had warmly 
espoused the cause of the strikers in the 
Granite Quarry, and had maintained 
many of the families of the Italian and 
Welsh cutters during that long siege. It 
was she who had sent the little son of 
Timothy Blake, the sail maker, to Balti- 
more, where he had been cured of his 



220 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



lameness. Antonio heard upon all sides 
tales of the generosity of Madam 
Laurence. ''Surely," he said to himself, 
"here is doubtless one who will in time 
become the patron saint of Granite 
Cove," and his heart was greatly cheered, 
although he decided to keep the suspicion 
from the sceptical Bartholomew. 

When the contents of Madam Lau- 
rence's will was made known to the town, 
there was great excitement, and much 
amazement. To the Life Saving Station 
there was left a generous endowment, 
but the rest of the money bequeathed to 
the village was in the cause of art. A 
statue of Abraham Lincoln was to be 
erected upon the Common where, as the 
will read, "every child could look upon 
the face of one whose work and life were 
sacrificed to the highest in American 
nationality." 

Antonio heard all the gossip of Granite 
Cove concerning this bequest which was 
looked upon by many as eccentric, and 
by some as actually extravagant. He had 
many sources from which to gather it: 
from the docks where the fishing 
schooners were moored ; down at the ship 
building yard where the graceful racing 
yacht, the Viking III., was being modeled 
day by day to lift the cup in the Marble- 
head races ; down at the old forge where 
the patient horses stood to be shod by 
cross old Peter. On all sides, the at- 
tentive boy collected scraps of informa- 
tion upon a subject which had all the 
charm of novelty to him, and his active, 
tireless mind like a mosaic worker picked 
up a fragment here and there, until at 
last the boy had before him a wondrous 
pattern, the pattern of the greatest life of 
which he had ever conceived, that of the 
Emancipator. 

There was everything in the history of 
the martyr president to attract the boy. 
Lincoln too, had spent a childhood of ob- 
scurity and poverty, yet as a resistless 
flame, that heroic spirit had fought up- 
ward toward the altar of Truth, where 
sacrifice and surrender, faith and labor, 
are the immortal pillars. In the heart of 
the sensitive Italian child a great ardor 
burned to emulate that life. To Antonio, 
the dramatic incidents of that career 
seemed miraculous. Could it be possible 



that a ragged peasant could master the 
rudiments of law, and at last be chosen 
by his country to guide the fiery chariot 
of war to victory? This was more tre- 
mendous than the history of the great 
Saint Catherine's leading the Pope back 
to the deserted Roman See. The heart 
of the child swelled as the buds swell in 
the showers of April, and tears, the first 
tears of a deathless patriotism rained 
down his cheeks. Antonio had at last 
found a king to serve. 

Antonio's voice was greatly appre- 
ciated in the school, and he was among 
the company of children trained to sing 
the national anthem which was to form 
part of the exercises upon the day of the 
unveiling of the statue, which, so rumor 
reported, had been sculptured in the 
atelier of a celebrated Florentine sculp- 
tor. Antonio felt a great pride in this 
fact, and answered many questions as 
modestly as he could concerning the City 
of Lilies, which it was known he had 
visited. 

The national birthday was the one 
selected for the great event. The ar- 
rangements were carried out with char- 
acteristic New England frugality, and 
Antonio was amazed to find that no gar- 
lands were to wreathe the streets, no 
balconies were to be erected for the dis- 
play of embroidered draperies. Instead 
a hideous stand draped with rain-washed 
bunting disfigured the Common, and 
upon the day of the unveiling, the out- 
skirts of the square were thronged with 
wagons from which roasted peanuts, pop- 
corn and gingerbread were peddled. 

However, the summer day itself was 
lavish in its decoration. Never had the 
sparkling sea appeared so blue, never the 
flashing sails so radiant. The white 
roads, bordered with their beautiful gar- 
dens, reminded the child of his beloved 
Italy. Flags fluttered everywhere; bril- 
liant blots of color against the cloudless 
sky. The white dresses of the village 
children and the gay toilettes of the sum- 
mer visitors mitigated the ugliness of the 
stands when at last the great concourse 
of people was assembled; and Antonio, 
wild with excitement and emotion, rose as 
the music broke into the national anthem, 
and the black-coated dignitary chosen for 



SAINT LINCOLN 221 

the office, lifted the cord attached to the restoration, the statue had that subtle 

white drapery, veiling the mysterious likeness to his friend, which is so lmpos- 

statue sible to define. There was the same 

What would be the face of the great length of limb, the identical backward 

Lincoln? wondered Antonio, for strange fling to the heavy head, 
as it may seem, he had as yet seen no Suddenly a light broke upon the mind 

picture of the President. He hardly of the astounded child. This was indeed 

knew what to expect, a Caesar or some his saint, and yet the saint of America, 

such figure as that of the brown-robed He understood all now. What more in 

Saint Francis, lean and emaciated, clasp- accord with the life of the great Lincoln, 

ing a crucifix. Would he wear an im- than that he should for a moment of 

perial toga, or the dress of today ? At eternity choose effacement, obscurity and 

last the marble stood exposed and the neglect in the great cathedral across the 

air was rent with cheers. sea, if by so doing he should win a son 

The statue had been restored, the lofty, for America? 
sorrow-seamed brow crowned a face that The waves of acclaim surged about 

had the beauty of thought, of conquest. Antonio as he stood in the bright sun- 

The child saw with a throb of delirious shine, and in his heart was a great joy, 

joy, that the strong right hand now held as he whispered, "Amico, I know your 

a scroll, the scroll of the Emancipation name ! My prayer is answered. You are 

Proclamation, and yet, with all the Saint Lincoln !" 



The Wondering Where 

By W. LIVINGSTON LARNED 

Where are the dear little boys and girls 

Built of the fibre of long ago? 

Where are the children we used to know 
Glowing of cheeks, with their flowing curls 

Here, in our clime, we can trace the day 
When, 'twas no dream, for to see them so 
Built of the fibre of long ago 

Sun-bonnet heads, as they went to play. 

Where is the quiet of woodland dells, 

Wonderful, fragrant and steeped in rose? 

Mayhap, you'll find it, but nobody knows, 
Deep in the heart, when the true heart tells 

Some of it lives, and it's sweet to say 
Far, where the fir, and pine-breath blows 
Wonderful, fragrant, and steeped in rose, 

Rearing anew with each sun-kissed day. 

Where may the quaint old paths be found 

Bordered by hedge and the long-lost blooms ? 

Where are the dreams and the faint perfumes, 
Look all ye here, to our God-fed ground 

Dear Old New England has kept her charms 
Woven, their charm from the kindred looms 
Bordered by hedge and the long lost blooms, 

Wrapped to the heart, by the Father's arms. 



WW 



The Special Plea of a Southener 



55 



By ESTHER HARLAN 



WITH the majority of Southern- 
ers whose political or literary 
prominence gives their as- 
sumption to speak with 
authority on the "negro problem" sem- 
blance of credence, the vindication and 
protection of Southern womanhood 
forms the basic argument and most 
potent appeal. For this reason the at- 
titude of a Southern woman may be of 
interest and her opinion of possible ser- 
vice. 

The writer is the daughter of a Con- 
federate officer and the descendant of 
many generations of slave-holders. She 
has lived on both sides of "the Line," and 
on both has come into practical contact, 
not only with broad-minded, public- 
spirited white and black men and women, 
but also with the rank and file. Her 
childhood (passed in an atmosphere so 
embittered that the name of a much loved 
relative who, in training at West Point 
in '61, enlisted in the Northern army, was 
forbidden reference throughout the 
family), was also familiar with the petty 
personal indignities and injustice of the 
reconstruction regime. This childhood 
was followed by quieter years of untram- 
meled reading and thinking and, later, 
a period of inevitable decision and action 
regarding various factors of the "prob- 
lem." 

The result of all this is a willingness to 
look facts and their reasonable deduc- 
tions fairly in the face. The writer feels, 
indeed, that the obligation to do this and 
to scorn quibbles, half-truths, prejudice 
and unreasoned impulse, is a legacy not 
lightly to be ignored. To do less would 
be unworthy of her traditions, for it is 
as a Southern woman that she speaks. 

To reach any basis for sane action, the 
requirements of truth and justice, both 
as to ultimate aim and method of en- 



deavor, must be held paramount. At all- 
points, discrimination must be made 
between fact and feeling; between ac- 
tualities and all sentiment, fear or desire 
in regard to these. 

It may be protested that all this is too 
obvious to require so much as mention. 
The fact remains that the major part of 
race pressure to-day is due to an utter 
disregard, in practical matters, of just 
these truisms. That such discrimination 
is flagrantly lacking in the mass of dis- 
tinctively Southern estimates and oratory 
(due, chiefly, to the inevitable lack of 
perspective) can not be denied. And this 
alone has done much and not unjustly, to 
discredit in Northern eyes, Southern 
honesty of purpose and actual capability 
to deal with the subject single-handed. 

The same fault has characterized the 
bulk of Northern utterance and action, 
aggravated by the sometimes sentimentaL 
sometimes venal disinclination to acquire 
accurate information. The writer's ex- 
perience is that this attitude on the part 
of Northerners has, more than any other 
one thing, not only retarded unanimity 
and effectiveness of effort but, by the 
circulation of half-truths and action 
based upon these, has directly and 
greatly increased that race hatred which, 
presumably, it sought to diminish. 

The fundamental facts before us today 
are : ten millions of negroes ; seventy 
millions of white or at least non-negro 
persons ; and between them an increasing 
antagonism, not only seven times more 
extensive in the latter case, but incal- 
culably deeper and more bitter — a matter 
largely economic, partly temperamental, 
somewhat, also, in the South, in the 
nature of "that hate which is impotent 
fear." 

1. The economic element, in so far as 
it differentiates from the racial, is thereby 



"THE SPECIAL PLEA OF A SOUTHERNER" 



223 



eliminated from consideration here and 
takes its place merely as one of the 
factors in the overshadowing problem 
now ripening for our solution, irrespec- 
tive of cellular pigmentation, status or 
stigma of antecedent conditions. 

2. Temperamentally, the present feel- 
ing between black and white is recogniz- 
ably a remnant of our common heritage 
of savagery, the instinct of tribal 
separateness in tribal infancy as a neces- 
sity of self-preservation, augmented by 
a callousness born of centuries of merely 
commercial relations — generations of as- 
sociation as owner and chattel only. 

3. In consideration of the "hate 
which is impotent fear," let the reader 
try to imagine the emotions of the pos- 
sessor of a poker or a poodle suddenly 
vested with equal rights in the common 
domicile. Imagine the animal or the 
iron, assuming swaggering airs in its 
newly acquired freedom, ordering its 
quondam owner about, preempting per- 
sonal privileges once the latter's indis- 
putable right, steadily increasing in 
power and progeny and upheld, even en- 
couraged, by the major part of the 
humiliated owner's own household. 
Imagine yourself this deposed, dazed and 
helpless owner, and you have some in- 
sight as to the emotional status of the 
average Southerner during reconstruc- 
tion days and a prime cause of the con- 
tinuing avid antagonism. 

The writer clearly recalls the conversa- 
tions of representative men and women 
during the early seventies and her own 
fierce partisanship. And for this she is 
increasingly thankful, as otherwise she 
could not justly appreciate the present 
situation ; could not so deeply and 
genuinely sympathize with the position 
of her own people (it is always as a 
Southerner that she speaks) nor so clear- 
ly discern their limitations. 

It is fatuous to insist that because the 
negro is not a chattel in the sense of the 
poker or the poodle, because the posses- 
sion of man by man is unethical and in- 
human, therefore the Southerner's atti- 
tude was and is unjustifiable and there- 
fore inconsiderable. It must be remem- 
bered that slavery as a hereditary insti- 
tution, legally and morally recognized. 



was exactly as much an integral part of 
social and economic Southern life then, 
as today, both North and South, is the 
right of private ownership of inanimate 
things — the legality, for instance, of the 
reader's possession of three suits of 
clothes while the panhandler in the street 
owns less than one. And the mental 
attitude of the Southerner when forcibly 
deprived of his possessions was not un- 
like what the reader's would naturally be 
today, if relieved by the police of two 
and-a-half outfits that five panhandlers 
might thereby be clothed more nearly in 
accordance with the demands of human 
comfort — all arguments as to the sacred- 
ness of the principle underlying pos- 
session of a private wardrobe, the pan- 
handler's inability to appreciate it, so ex- 
clusive and personal its cut, the inherent 
folly and resultant evils of the 
whole transaction, being inconsequently 
brushed aside as were the arguments of 
the slave owner. This is by no means an 
overstatement of the case, and it is things 
as they actually were and are from the 
Southerner's point of view, that must be 
taken into account, and just discrimina- 
tion made between intentional inequity 
and emotional bias due to fixed mental 
habits and consequent structural limita- 
tions. 

This mental attitude of the Southerner 
has been and is a most important factor 
in the adjustment — or non-adjustment — 
of the races during the past forty years, 
and it should be remembered that this 
"hate which is impotent fear" is in 
nowise abated by counter hate, derision 
or coercion. 

There are three points in considera- 
tion of the relations between the races 
which the writer regards as of basic im- 
portance : 

1. Honest investigation will substan- 
tiate the assertion that race hatred is 
circumstantial and superficial with the 
neqro. 

His desire for political prominence is 
fundamentally a struggle for personal 
achievement. That such desires under 
existing- conditions create personal and 
racial friction and are regarded by non- 
negro citizens in the light of premeditat- 
ed insult, is wholly incidental so far as 



224 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



the negro is concerned. He wants to be 
clerk or sheriff or foreman or lawyer for 
the sake of the personal aggrandisement, 
remuneration, improvement, respect — ac- 
cording to his temperament or mental 
calibre. Even a desire for or an effort 
toward social equality can not, on the 
face of it, be born of race hatred. It is, 
as are his other aspirations, wholly 
emulatory and in no sense or degree an- 
tagonistic. 

Under the abnormal influences brought 
to bear in the period directly following 
the civil war — cheap politics, conscience- 
less greed, with a residuum of animal 
ferocity from the four preceeding years 
— the negro said and did many things 
innately foreign to him. Under the ab- 
normal pressure of non-negro feeling to- 
day, he still departs from temperamental 
racial tendencies, but in the barest justice 
it must be admitted, with amazing in- 
frequency, his numbers and the im- 
manent aggravations considered. And 
blame even for such departures should 
fall primarily upon the primary factors. 

The negro is not naturally a hater. 
He has none of the Indian's constitu- 
tional capacity for sustained malice. He 
is too indolent, if you will ; too impres- 
sionable to resist the slightest overture 
of friendliness or fairness on the part of 
a quondam antagonist. It is this very 
impressionableness that has led him into 
much previous error and made him a 
prey to the unscrupulous, but, demon- 
strably, is equally amenable to influences 
of the opposite character. By the most 
superficial observer only, can this char- 
acteristic be regarded as an inherent 
liability and never an asset. Rather than 
an organic weakness, it is a racial oppor- 
tunity in the sense of racial immaturity — 
an immaturity accentuated just now, it is 
true, by centuries of dependence and dep- 
rivation of any initiative. 

That this racial opportunity is, in the 
existing crisis, fraught with value equally 
for the dominant race, is a fact of which 
that race might well make serious note. 

2. The writer also desires to empha- 
size unequivocally, her conviction that 
the almost unparalleled loyalty on the 
part of negro men and women toward 
Southern women and children during 



their four years of defencelessness and 
many years of poverty, and the deep 
affection and staunch friendships be- 
tween white and black survivors of that 
time, are the direct result of constant and 
close association of individuals of the 
two races. 

It was not the mere fact of slavery 
that fostered these fine qualities, but the 
daily, life-long companionship with 
kindliness and culture, that brought out 
and perfected the basic traits of negro 
character at its present stage of develop- 
ment — affection and fidelity. That this 
companionship existed within the bounds 
of slavery, blinded the eyes of the white 
race to its potency and portent. As a 
matter of fact the term, "slavery," cov- 
ered conditions as widely dissimilar as 
the term, "American." On a single 
plantation the relations between master 
and slave varied with each family or 
group and, indeed, were scarcely identical 
in any two instances. It was the house 
and body servants, those who came into 
direct and continuous contact with "the 
family," who showed and still show in- 
delibly the effect of this association. The 
alertness of perception, the resourceful- 
ness and endurance where love and loyal- 
ty impelled, the really heroic honesty, all 
things considered, that characterized 
countless "mammies" and "aunts" and 
"uncles," can not by any stretch of per- 
jured imagination be regarded as the re- 
sult of the bare fact of servitude. 

Generations of field hands, whole 
gangs of whom, both men and women, 
were constantly changing owners, the 
thousands on the outskirts of the planta- 
tion nucleus, showed no perceptible prog- 
less in this strength and refinement of 
character, though these equally with the 
others were slaves and chattels. 

In so far as slavery meant close con- 
tact with culture, slavery was a blessing 
to the negro ; in so far as freedom has 
separated him from this and its antici- 
pated possibilities tend to widen the 
breach, to that extent and for that reason, 
political equality appears retrogressive in 
its influence. 

3. Again, from the plain justice of 
the moment's imperative demand, must 
be distinguished most clearly and em- 



THE SPECIAL PLEA OF A SOUTHERNER" 



225 



phatically, the possibly resultant condi- 
tions so pyrotechnically insisted and en- 
larged upon by selfish and superficial 
partisans. It is perfectly practicable to 
preserve equitable human relations with 
individuals and an open mind toward 
biologic tendencies without disregarding 
a single rational personal preference. 

Among the four million inhabitant- of 
New York City, for instance, the w. iter's 
friends number scarcely one hundred. 
Thousands of immigrants are weekly 
landing at that port of whom few might 
prove desirable close companions. Yet 
she has lived in New York for long 
periods without becoming aware of any 
point in which the esident millions or 
the incoming crowds imperil individual 
choice as to the personnel of that small 
circle of friends. Nor has she ever 
deemed it necessary to her comfort or 
safety to exclude even from that circle 
all whom she would not consider as 
matrimonial possibilities. Unquestion- 
ably she fails to see the sanity of protest 
against the mere residence in her vicinity 
of persons whom she is convinced she 
would not care to "invite to her table." 

And in like manner she could if she so 
desired live with peace and self respect 
in the midst of millions of negroes — or 
Philjppinos or Siamese — with as little 
danger of disastrous social complications. 
And her common sense rebels when im- 
passioned writers denounce equal poli- 
tical, educational, with all circumstantial 
opportunities for the negro, as conducive 
to the production of a "negroid nation" 
and ask if we are prepared to see "all 
parlors full of negroes." In this parti- 
cular connection, it is as pertinent to say 
"all parlors full of Poles" — or Italians or 
Lithuanians. If all about us are poten- 
tially our peers by all means let them 
prove it. Who desires a fool's paradise 
of faked supremacy ? Even when proved, 
no individual privacy or privilege has 
thereby been disturbed. 

In this respect also, we seem to have 
read the obvious lesson of the old regime 
wrong end to and up side down. During 
slavery the relation between thousands of 
individuals of the two races was of the 
closest and most intimate nature. Scores 
of cultured men and women living to-day 



owe some portion of their vitality to 
negro foster-mothers ; hundreds can re- 
call the sheltering arms of negro love in 
their childhood. These did not then pol- 
lute us ; wherein does the mere existence 
of nominal citizenship so alter material 
facts that even the proximity of one of 
these same people now seems to us in- 
tolerable ? 

For Southerners above all others such 
a position appears illogical, untenable. 
To the writer's mind the particular brand 
of effervescence regarding the protection 
of Southern womanhood for "the purity 
of the race" reflects decidedly upon the 
character and mental calibre of those 
who must be protected at such a price. 
Personally, she resents it; and feeling 
neither fear nor its consequent impotence 
in consideration of this whole matter, she 
is therefore not handicapped by that un- 
intelligent hatred, these of necessity en- 
gender. 

This, then, being the case: that the 
negro from the beginning — his earliest 
departure from his African home — has 
been and still is the victim of circum- 
stances by reason of his own immaturity 
and the overwhelming economic and 
social odds arrayed ; that race hatred on 
his part is incidental only, being funda- 
mentally foreign to his nature ; that 
where he has had the opportunity of ad- 
vantageous associations he has responded 
phenominally, all things considered ; that 
it is demonstrably possible to do him 
social and economic justice without viola- 
tion of personal preference ; — what, now, 
are we going to do about it all ? — we, as 
human beings, irrespective of North or 
South ; we, as brains and consciences, 
confronted by the work of our own 
hands and our fathers' ; we, as arbiters of 
the future, responsible to our children 
for a legacy of prejudice, and problems 
whose solution we shirk? 

There are clearly but two aspects of 
the matter to be considered — the biolog- 
ical and the economic, the latter not 
coming within the scope of this paper. 
Biologically, theories, except as deduced 
from experience, are of course inconsid- 
erable. Hence the question is : what are 
the facts before us to-day ? 

Careful inquiry fails to discover that 



226 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



among negroes of comparative note a 
single one is without an appreciable ad- 
mixture of non-negro blood. But the 
large majority of these have been of 
mixed lineage for several generations, 
implying a continuous association of the 
races with possibly concomitant oppor- 
tunities for culture. As the essential 
tests of time and adequate opportunity 
have not as yet been accorded the pure- 
blooded African, distinctively as such, 
the above facts, though attesting a certain 
advantage from the negro's standpoint, 
accruing from racial merging, are of no 
conclusive value, similar profit from 
similar association under complete racial 
cleavage being equally probable. Inci- 
dentally, miscegenation has, as is well 
known but infrequently admitted, been 
carried on through the white male for 
generations, all degrees of mixture being, 
with rare exceptions, relegated to "the 
quarters." It is the descendants of these 
successive infusions from the flower of 
civilization who are, in many instances, 
in the forefront of human achievement 
today. (Discussion of such relegation of 
sons and daughters and the comparative 
value of the so-called "preservation of 
race purity" on such terms, is incumbent 
only upon surviving masculine chivalry 
and logic.) 

Anglo-Saxon, or, for present purposes, 
non-negro progress may perhaps be con- 
ceded as practically limitless ; existing 
facts refute imputation of mental, moral 
or physical deterioration in those of 
mixed lineage, other things being equal ; 
it remains then, to be seen what the pure 
African would evolve. Certainly it be- 
hooves those who, with vocal and various 
violence continuously combat even the 
consideration of association between in- 
dividuals of the two races, to leave no 
stone unturned, by affording the pure 
African all possible facilities for separate 
racial development, to prove that ab- 
solute and eternal separateness is biolog- 
ically best for both, for the most cur- 
sory glance at human history establishes 
the fact that evolutionary forces sooner 
or later effect their ultimate end of the 
greatest good for the greatest number. 

For the individual, therefore, it would 
seem the part of wisdom either frankly 



to admit a preference definitely to shirk 
all share in the solution of this question, 
or conscientiously to qualify, by the ac- 
quisition of facts and by their just inter- 
pretation, for intelligent participation — 
action or opinion. 

An increasing social consciousness and 
resultant sensitiveness of ethical percep- 
tion are distinguishing characteristics of 
the world's elect, to-day. The absence 
of these, evidenced by desire to evade all 
possible social responsibility, indicates ar- 
rested mental or moral development and 
should of course be as patiently and 
leniently dealt with as any deformity. 

For those, however, who would 
consciously qualify for intelligent action, 
a first-hand acquaintance with the facts 
and factors of all sides is of paramount 
importance. The man or woman who 
knows and feels the need of knowing but 
one point of view is manifestly incapaci- 
tated to contribute the sum total of wis- 
dom in regard to any matter. Also, the 
personal equation must be kept well in 
hand ; one's own mental attitude even 
though unexpressed, is a far from incon- 
siderable element in determining the atti- 
tude of others. 

In this connection, the writer would 
like to make a strong and explicit appeal 
to her own sex for an adequate, in- 
dividual mental equipment. Incalculably 
more valuable than one woman in a 
thousand yet realizes, will her mental and 
emotional bias prove to the generation 
now omnivorously devouring printed 
statements and opinions, as well as that 
yet to learn its letters. Existing racial 
relations are directly traceable to ignor- 
ance and ungoverned emotionality. 

The writer has for years made a point 
of acquainting herself with opinion on 
this subject and to this end has attended 
conventions and other meetings both of 
white and black. North and South. In 
an overwhelming majority of instances 
in the first-named section, there has been 
evident an undercurrent of blame and an- 
tagonism toward the supposedly apathetic 
if not actively culpable South of to-day. 
Within the past year the writer heard a 
well-known Massachusetts editor, in ad- 
dressing a large audience, chiefly negroes. 
in New York City, say : "We have licked 



"THE SPECIAL PLEA OF A SOUTHERNER" 



227 



the South once for you and if necessary, 
we are ready to do it again," and white 
women applauded. Such utterances are, 
in the writer's estimation, exactly on a 
par in criminal responsibility, with that 
of the upholders of lynch-law in the 
South. It particularly behooves represent- 
atives of certain localities to recall the 
treatment they accorded Garrison and 
other wholly idealistic abolitionists, be- 
fore it was demonstrably certain to the 
lay mind that abolition of slavery in the 
South would accrue to the commercial 
advantage of non-slaveholding sections ; 
also the correlative fact that money re- 
ceived for slaves disposed of solely for 
the reason that they proved unremunera- 
tive in the latitude of New England, 
formed the bulk of many an abolitionist's 
fortune, and, with moneys resulting from 
"war-time prices" and the subsequent 
economic change of base, the fortunes of 
a still greater number of contemporary 
critics of the impoverished South. Many 
cities and sections of the South, indeed, 
in which there is much, if not most racial 
friction today are peopled to the extent of 
seventy-five per cent and over with 
Northerners settled there for commercial 
purposes only, and no small percentage 
of those reaping the financial fruits of 
peonage iniquities are neither of South- 
ern lineage nor interests. Such facts, in- 
trinsically immaterial otherwise (as dis- 
tinctive reference to North or South be- 
comes increasingly inaccurate) are never- 
theless constantly brought to mind and 
emphasized by a certain complacency on 
the part of superficial critics. They 
ignore the prejudice daily, actively at- 
tested throughout the North toward the 
negro individually and collectively — it 
has been but a few weeks since the mere 
consent of a landlord to prospective 
negro tenants raised the indignation of 
an entire neighborhood in Greater New 
York, the residents sending formal pro- 
test and appeal to municipal authority. 
Such occurrences suggest the propriety 
of at least tolerance of speech on the part 
of long-range critics, as the indications 
are that their actions would differ little 
from those they now denounce, were con- 
ditions reversed. It is not difficult to 
contribute five dollars, or five hundred or 



five thousand, to clothe and educate some 
one's else undesirable neighbor. To 
bestir oneself to understand intelligently, 
sympathize with and assist both the un- 
desired and those thus inevitably neigh- 
bored, and if need be to share with both, 
one's own advantages, is a matter regard- 
ing which, some unsparing self-examina- 
tion might not prove amiss. 

It would seem that the great fund of 
patriotic impulse attested by the increas- 
ing number of women's associations of 
this character, might find legitimate ex- 
pression and its possessors an enviable 
immortality as descendants, each of her 
particular epoch of history or phase of 
heroism, and as women, at the dawning 
of this pre-eminently their day, by broad, 
unsectional, essentially patriotic study of 
this imminent national problem. 

Women of today have no small weight 
in the balance of public opinion. The 
contribution of intelligent individual 
opinion, conviction, upon the vital in- 
terests of at least the immediate day and 
domain of her own life, every woman 
owes to her era. She owes, too, the 
legacy of a just attitude of mind, ade- 
quate mental equipment for the brunt of 
the battle her successors will inevitably 
have to bear. The opportunity opened 
to courageous womanhood by the magni- 
tude and import of this particular ques- 
tion is unparalleled. Womanhood is 
equal to the demand — but are women 
alive to it? 

Especially would the writer appeal to 
women of the South. Is the sectional 
charge of apathy, even active culpability, 
altogether unjust? What are we as dis- 
tinctively Southern women, doing in 
regard to this matter immediatelv con- 
fronting us and our children? Do we 
know more than one side of the question 
and that our own — purely personal and 
contingent? 

The writer is keenly alive to the 
South's handicap of poverty and emo- 
tional prejudice. Tn regard to the for- 
mer, the true dynamo is immaterial, and 
the poorest of us can contribute a 
humane intention, a willingness to recog- 
nize good when we find it and give it its 
due. As to the latter, she desires to con- 
fess frankly, though not without humilia- 



228 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



tion, that she herself is by no means free 
from the ancient instinct of racial sepa- 
rateness, and that not exclusively with 
reference to the negro. She still shrinks 
from facts and from actions which her 
intelligence nevertheless recognizes and 
her sense of equity impels. Such im- 
pulses are not to be annulled by a wave 
of the hand and nothing is at any time 
gained by lack of candor. But in her 
own case, the writer has carefully identi- 
fied these as prejudices, distinguishing 
them at every point from principles or 
working theories rationally deducible 
from facts. 

Southern women do not lack mettle. 
"Can not those of us who value our herit- 
age of honor and the noblesse oblige 
thereby entailed — the even balance at 
whatever cost — face to-day's facts as our 
forebears faced their foes ? Honest, un- 
daunted effort to get at the basic truth of 
things shorn of all painted terrors and 
variegated verbiage, could not fail of due 
fruition. 

Personally, the writer feels that com- 
mon human gratitude toward those to 
whom she and many dear to her prac- 
tically owe their lives, impels no small 
patience with their descendants. There 
are numerous instances within her own 
knowledge of slaves having deprived 
themselves of necessities, going hungry 
and cold, that the women and children 
left in their care might not suffer. She 
recalls a specific occurrence during the 
closing year of the war: the last half of 
the last loaf of bread had been reached. 
Tt was not safe to stir beyond the imme- 
diate house-yard. Foraging, indeed, 
would have been to small purpose as the 
whole country-side had been laid waste. 
Two little children, their delicate mother 
and the old black Mammy had been living 
from day to day in the forlorn hope that 
"something would happen." Otherwise, 
that half loaf of bread with a very small 
strip of bacon was all that stood between 
them and stark starvation. Gray-haired 
Mammy Chloe was overheard praying 
in the empty pantry: "De good Lawd 



hep dis nigga not tech dem vittals !" the 
tears following in quick succession down 
her cheeks, the bread and meat on the 
shelf before her, "Gawd come down an' 
quell de achin' in dese here insides an 
fill em wid de grace o' de Lawd ! Hep 
me wrassle wid temptation forty days an' 
forty nights," here a convulsive sob was 
stifled apron-wise, "ef mus' be, but gin 
me strengt' to cut dat bread an' meat 
widout tas'in' so much as a crumb !" and 
the hushed voice frayed off into a sigh of 
actual physical weakness as the suppliant 
rose from her knees and laid her hand on 
the bread knife, preparatory to serving 
"dinner." 

One is almost constrained to say: 
" f ; eater love hath no man than this" ! 

Thousands throughout the South to- 
day have kindred associations and must 
feel a like impulse of gratitude and 
obligation. It was years ago in New 
Orleans that, upon the impulse of an ap- 
preciative white population, was reared 
the first monument ever given a negro in 
this country. Generosity is accounted a 
Southern characteristic. Are we letting 
our ideals slip through our fingers? Is 
it fair to expect the immature race to 
raise alone the standard of common rela- 
tions? What are we Daughters of the 
Confederacy, as such, contributing to 
this, the dire necessity of the land, and to 
the honor of the traditions, that we so 
justly love? 

And yet what might we not do, work- 
ing with unanimity of purpose and an 
ideal above the fog of petty personal 
aims ! Could a more fitting monument be 
be raised to the memory of those whom 
we revere, those "who never turned their 
backs but marched breast forward," than 
the perpetuation of their names thus 
linked with courage and fair-minded- 
ness? 

Women of the South have no mean 
record for earnestness of purpose, scorn 
of unfairness and untruth, a capacity for 
heroic selflessness. We did not shirk 
our share of yesterday's stress and suffer- 
ing; are we shirking now? 



* v* * 



Slumber Song 



(As sung on the old Alabama plantations.) 
By MARTHA YOUNG 

HUSH, little baby, don't say a word — 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a mockin'-bird ! 
When dat bird begin to sing, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a finger-ring ! 
When dat ring begin to wear, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a rockin'-chair ! 




HUSH, LITTLE BABY, 
DON'T SAY A WORD ! 



When dat chair begin ter rock, P^ 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a 

ever'day clock ! 
When dat clock go, tick-a-tock, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a 

blue silk frock ! 
When dat frock begin ter tear, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a 

golden stair ! 
When dat stair begin to creak, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a 

doll can speak ! 
When dat doll begin ter break, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a 

caraway cake ! 
When dat cake begin to melt, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a 

diamont belt ! 
When that belt begin to bine, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a 

red-rose-vine ! 



When dat vine begin ter grow, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a coach and fo' ! 
When that coach begin to ter stop, 
Mammy gwine ter buy you a spinnin'-top ! 
Now den, Honey, hush, hush, hush — 
Hush— 'sh— 'sh— 'sh— 




Ware's 



ATTRACTIVE OPERA Ho US 




Beautiful Ware 



Bv W. T. WOOD 



IT has been said that history is like 
a diminishing glass. As we look 
back through its medium the events 
and the state of society that prompt- 
ed the consummation of those events, ap- 
pear, lessened, it is true, by the perspec- 
tive, but more clear and distinct in sig- 
nificance than they appeared to those 
during whose life-time they were accom- 
plished. That the rule may not be 
without its traditional proof, the early 
history of New England has established 
itself as an exception, for our fore- 
fathers were careless historians and, to 
continue the simile, the early annals of 
the American colonies are too often 
strangely blurred and out of focus. 

It is not unfitting, therefore, although 
a grant of five hundred acres of land in 
what is now the heart of the town of 
Ware was granted to Richard Hollings- 
worth of Salem in 1673, that we should 
find little historical data except the 
lecords of undeveloped grants for more 
than half a century afterward. 

On a mild still day in the autumn of 
1729 when the sunshine filtering through 
the gorgeous foliage of the trees cast a 
checkered light upon the rustling carpet 
of pungent leaves, and a soft transparent 
haze veiled the distant mountains, the 
little party of Captain Jabez Olmstead 
scrambled up the steep slopes of the 
boulder-covered hills which form the 
rim of the giant bowl that now encloses 
the town, and from the crest looked 
down upon the broad valley through 
which winds the silver ribbon of the 
Nenameseck. Here and there along the 
river the smoke of an Indian encamp- 
ment rose lazily above the trees, and the 
sound of the voices of the inhabitants 
as they tended their salmon weirs, drift- 
ed to the ears of the listening white men, 



with that musical softness which the 
peaceful air of Indian summer lends to 
the harshest sounds. They indeed stood 
upon a "hill that overlooked a land of 
hope." 

If Captain Olmstead had possessed the 
magic pipe of the immortal Olaffe, he 
might indeed have been astounded by the 
vision that would appear in its rising 
smoke-wreaths. Not being so fortunate, 
however, and, no doubt, being possessed 
of that imaginative practicality which 
distinguished our ancestors, he lost no 
time in vain imaginings but set him 
straightway to descend into the pleasant 
valley and make arrangements for the 
settlement of his new home. Gathering 
a few settlers around the grist mill that 
he constructed at a fall of the beautiful 
river, he christened the town Wear or 
Ware from the fish weirs which abound- 
ed near this point. 

Such was the settlement of the thriv- 
ing factory town with which this article 
has to deal. Ware in its bustling busi- 
ness life has not been fortunate in the 
preservation of colonial relics and a few 
old tombstones in the more ancient 
churchyards, notably the so-called In- 
dian cemetery on West Street, are all 
that remain of the early days of the com- 
munity. 

In 1761 Ware was incorporated as a 
town, and this incorporation was ratified 
in 1775 under the then forming constitu- 
tion. 

In 1813 Alpheus Demond built upon 
the site of Olmstead's grist mill, a fac- 
tory in which he installed two carding 
machines, thus establishing himself as 
Ware's first manufacturer. 

Ware has often been described as the 
"town that looks like a city," and in fact 
it bears no small resemblance to a city 

231 



232 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




All Saints' Church 

in spirit as well as in appearance. As 
one enters from the east either by way of 
the railroad or by the trolly line from 
West Brookfield one passes the great 
mills covering acres of ground alive with 
the hum of machines. Whole streets of 
modern brick tenement blocks stretch 
before him and as the car rolls into Main 
Street, he steps upon the most modern 
of paved thoroughfares, lined with fine 
business blocks and public buildings. 
The excellence of the shops is due in no 
small measure to the fact that not only 
do Ware people do most of the shopping 
at home, but the town is a trading centre 
for a population of between thirty and 
fifty thousand. This large demand 
results in the keeping of a stock which 
rivals both in completeness and in quality 
the equipment of many city stores. 

Nor is the business section of the town 
the only department of Ware's activities 



which has earned for it the approval of 
strangers. It is too often the case in a 
manufacturing community that the 
population consists almost entirely of the 
poorer classes and that the residential 
advantages consist of huddled tenements 
set upon dusty treeless streets, littered 
with rubbish and reeking with the stench 
of scattered garbage. In the many 
manufacturing towns which I have 
visited, these have been the features 
which have most impressed me. 

It is, therefore, no little pleasure to 
find a town where these conditions do 
not exist even in the tenement districts 
and where many of the residential sec- 
tions rival in beauty and richness the 
most exclusive suburbs of our great 
cities. Here on streets embowered with 
trees, beautiful homes are set in spacious 
well-kept grounds, cool, restful and in- 
viting. Such, in brief, is the description 
of Ware. 

"Business before pleasure," is an old 
saying and while I would gladly give a 
more full description of the town at this 
point, it is fitting that we should turn our 
attention to the cause of Ware's prosper- 
ity — the manufacturing interests. 

Ware now is, and has always been, 
distinctly a textile manufacturing centre. 
The three largest corporations in town 
are the Otis Company, the George H. 
Gilbert Manufacturing Company, and the 
Stevens Company. 

The first manufactures denims, tick- 
ings, shirtings and fine underwear, 




East Congregational Church 



BEAUTIFUL WARE 



233 



receiving the raw cotton and sending out 
the finished garment. The output of this 
company is valued at over three million 
dollars yearly. Its plant is one of the 
show places of the town. 

The George H. Gilbert Company, 
capitalized at $1,000,000, is engaged in 
the manufacturing of woolens and 
worsteds. Their product taking first 
award at the Chicago World's Fair in 
1893. The company owns, besides its 
Ware plant, factories in Gilbertville, 
about five miles distant. The Charles A. 
Stevens Company are also manufacturers 



plus, and the Ware Savings Bank with 
deposits of over four million. The 
possession of these strong financial insti- 
tutions has been no small factor in the 
development of Ware's business inter- 
ests, and the town is to be congratulated 
upon its possession. 

To the manufacturer, the problem of 
transportation is of first importance. In 
this respect Ware is in no way lacking. 
Situated on the Boston and Maine and 
Boston and Albany railroads, with ample 
freight yard conveniences, the problem 
of handling raw materials and products 




Grenville Park 



of woolens and dress goods, having a 
large plant on Maple Street. 

Companies more recently organized 
but of great importance are the J. T. 
Wood Shoe Company, the Ware Lumber 
Company, engaged in the construction of 
house finishings, and other fine wood- 
work, and the Crip Coupling Company, 
manufacturing a newly invented pipe 
joint. 

Ware has long maintained the position 
of a banking centre for a wide stretch 
of surrounding country. There are two 
banks, the Ware National Bank, with a 
capital of $300,000 and a $115,000 sur- 



is easily solved. The Springfield and 
Eastern electric road also runs daily ex- 
press cars to Palmer with Springfield 
connections. 

Excellent fire protection is maintained 
both through the high pressure water 
system and through the efficiency of a 
well drilled fire department, equipped 
with the most modern apparatus, housed 
in fire houses so situated as to thorough- 
ly cover the very compact town. The 
police system is one of the best in the 
state and the alertness of the chief and 
his patrolmen have prevented any 
criminal operations of a serious nature 



234 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




. 



Main Street, Ware 



from being perpetrated for many years. 
Nor is this all that the prospective 
manufacturer will find to recommend 
Ware as a place in which to establish 
himself. Not only will he find excellent 
transportation facilities and have his 
property amply protected, but he will 
have a choice of factory sites convenient 
for the handling of freight, and if he 
desires to use electiic power, the Ware 
Electric Company is equipped to furnish 
efficient service at a rate lower than is 
done in most cities. Building materials 
are available in abundance and skilled 



labor is easily obtainable. 

The postal service is good, and tele- 
phone and telegraph accommodations are 
a matter of course. 

The population of Ware is cosmopoli- 
tan, consisting of Canadian French 
and Poles besides the native born Ameri- 
cans. From these classes may be recruit- 
ed men for almost any kind of work. 
Further, experience has proved that they 
may be developed into skilled workmen 
in a very short time. 

The four modern hotels, The Hamp- 
shire House, The Mansion House, The 




Ware's Banking Headquarters 



BEAUTIFUL WARi: 



235 



Storrs House and The Commercial Hotel 
offering excellent accommodations for 
either the transient or the permanent 
guest have proved invaluable acquisitions 
to the manufacturer. 

Something has already been noted of 
Ware as a place of residence. Upon this 
point too much can hardly be said for the 
town is a pleasing combination of city 
and country, possessing the advantages 
of both. The pure air and wholesome 
water, the ample supply of fresh fruit 



and pumped into a stone lined reservoir 
upon a hill nearly a mile and a half dis- 
tant. The elevation is sufficient to carry 
water to any section of the town, and for 
purposes of fire protection will throw a 
stream over the highest buildings without 
the use of the engine. As the depth of 
water in the reservoir is automatically 
telegraphed to the pumping station, the 
reservoir is kept full at all times from 
the wells that have never yet failed. 
The streets are wide, well shaded, and 




The Otis Company Counting House 



and vegetables from the surrounding 
farms, the facilities for walking, golfing, 
swimming, boating and other athletic 
exercises, together with the excellent 
system of sewage makes Ware one of the 
most healthful towns in the state. 
Medical aid in case of sickness is sup- 
plied by a number of physicians of the 
highest rank, and the recently established 
hospital is available to those who prefer 
to receive treatment there. 

The water system to which reference 
has already been made, supplies accord- 
ing to the Massachusetts Board of 
Health, the purest water in the State. 
The water is drawn from artesian wells 



kept in fine condition by an efficient 
Street Department. Main Street is 
paved with vitrified brick and this paving 
is being rapidly extended to the other 
business streets. Many of the streets are 
macadamized and others are being treat- 
ed with the oiled gravel coating which 
has proved so successful. All the gut- 
ters are paved and concrete sidewalks are 
placed on every street. Many of the 
residence streets are parked. 

The State road runs to Gilbertville 
along the Ware River Valley and. in the 
opposite direction, is now being built to 
Palmer. Both roads extend through a 
country of great beauty and are much 



236 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINI 



•" 




High School 



used for pleasure driving and motoring. 
The streets are well lighted by electric arc 
lamps of the latest pattern. 

The schools are second to none in effi- 
ciency and in accommodation. There is at 
present a corps of about forty teachers 
teaching in seven modern buildings, not 
including the district schools. These 
buildings are equipped with the latest 
heating, ventilating and sanitary appli- 
ances, and through a rigid system of 
medical inspection the health of the 
pupils is carefully safe-guarded. The 
various laboratories of the High School 
are fitted in the most approved manner. 

The parish of the French speaking 
church, conducts a parochial school with 
a staff of ten teachers. 

Ware is amply provided with railway 
facilities, being on the Central Massachu- 
setts division of the Boston and Maine, 
and the Ware River Branch of the Bos- 
ton and Albany. Fast trains on the main 
line of the latter, for Boston and West- 
ern points may be taken at either West 
Brookfield or at Palmer, which are quick- 
ly reached by electric. 

There are two electric railroads; the 
Springfield and Eastern, going to Palmer 
and there connecting with Springfield, or 



Worcester cars, and the Ware and 
Brookfield, running to West Brookfield, 
where it connects with the Worcester and 
Spencer line, and to Gilbertville. It is 
expected that the Springfield and East- 
ern Company will shortly extend its line 
through South Street, one of the leading 
residential section. Either of these lines 
offer excursions of the most pleasant 
kind to those who are fond of the 
beauties of nature. Whether your car 
takes you over the rock bound hills where 
you overlook the valley far, far below 
checkered with dense groves of ancient 
trees and broad patches of pasture, in- 
tersected with bits of white road gleaming 
through the branches of arching elms, 
reflected motionless in the near-by river, 
and the whole scene shaded by precipi- 
tous bluffs and the more distant violet 
hills, or whether you glide through cool 
stretches of forest, you will declare, as 
many a traveller has done before you, 
that you have never see-; ? ?^o + more 
beautiful. 

In mentioning the beautifu. sj ">ts 
about Ware, one must not omit the park - 
Reservoir and the Pumping Station 
parks have met with much commenda- 
tion and have long been popular, but 



BEAUTIFUL WARE 



237 



newest of all Grenville Park recently 
presented to the town by J. 11. G. Gilbert 
and Mrs. Gilbert in memory of their son, 
outstrips them all in size and beauty. 
Situated upon the shore of the Ware 
River and laid out in the restful land- 
scape style, it is one of the most beautiful 
public parks in the State. 

The view here shown of one of its 
drives gives a slight idea of the natural 
beauty of this great tract. 

The religious life of Ware is cared for 
by eight churches. The East and First 
Congregational, All Saints, Our Lady of 
Mount Carmel (French) and Saint 
Mary's (Polish) Catholic, The First 
Unitarian Church, Trinity Episcopal 
Church, and The Methodist Church. All 
creeds are thus accommodated and the 
energy and example of the pastors of the 
various churches, and the hearty co- 
operation and harmony between leaders 
of the different sects has done much to 
promote Ware's prosperity. 

That a carefully selected library of 
fourteen thousand volumes, with reading 
and reference rooms is appreciated is 
shown by the yearly statements of the 
trustees. 

The town hall is equipped with a large 



and well iitted stage and many excellent 
plays and musical performances are 
given here during the winter season. 

Many clubs of a social and literary 
nature have been formed and several 
have attractive club rooms. The Ware 
( rolf club has an excellent links and club 
house on the line of the Palmer electrics 
and the Wickaboag Country Club has 
recently completed a neat home on the 
banks of Lake Wickaboag in West 
Brookfield. 

Various pleasure resorts are within easy 
reach, among them the Forest Lake Park,, 
about thirty minutes by electrics from 
Ware. This resort has splendid boating 
and picnic facilities, and contains a dance 
pavilion, restaurant, vaudeville theatre 
and attractions of a similar nature. Band 
concerts, fireworks and other special at- 
tractions are furnished by the progres- 
sive manager, and it is of interest to note 
at this time that Miss Rose Pitonof made 
her debut at this resort. 

All in all, Ware is a most attractive 
town both to the man interested in the 
development of industry and to him who 
is looking for a home. 

And best of all, the zenith of Ware's 
prosperity is not yet reached. 




■ 



Pumping Station 



The Consumption of Goodness 



By R. L. BRIDGMAN 



ATHENS the Modern has a new 
opera house, a new Museum of 
Fine Arts, a new city charter, a 
new street railway tunnel and a 
part of another under Beacon hill and a 
chronic newness of ideas. It is going to 
have a new city hall and a magnificent 
civic center sometime. It has a vigorous 
and effective Boston 1915 movement 
which will make many, if not all things 
new. There are perennial and standard 
sources of goodness besides. There is a 
long list of philanthropic organizations 
which advertise in The Transcript. The 
people have that blessed paper itself. 
They have memories of Phillips Brooks, 
of Jennie Collins, the noble founder of 
Boffin's Bower for working girls, of Dr. 
Samuel Gridley Howe, the benefactor of 
the blind, and of hundreds of other 
worthies back to the days of John 
Winthrop, no one of whom could say of 
himself quorum pars magna fid regard- 
ing the historic, patriotic, scientific, phil- 
anthropic, artistic, musical, religious, 
educational, industrial, commercial or 
theatrical progress of the city, for any 
other one might rise up and prove that he 
himself was a pars major. 

Now, each and all of these notable and 
memorable persons and institutions, from 
John Winthrop to the new opera house, 
are active producers of goodness. No 
other manufacturing center of it in the 
world has such a large and regular out- 
put. It has a marked and lasting effect 
upon the public sentiment of Boston and 
it is a large element in the force which 
radiates from Boston to other parts of the 
universe. The home market for this local 
product is enormous. Appetite grows by 
what it feeds upon and this favorite staple 
of consumption is always in large demand. 
People inhale it with the air. They ab- 
sorb it at every pore. Tt becomes a con- 
stituent part of their spiritual fabric. 
238 



But many singular features of this 
universal consumption of goodness, too 
true to be disputed, yet hitherto over- 
looked, have not received due attention. 
They are here commended to the con- 
sumers, and, incidentally, to outside 
spectators. 

Perhaps the first peculiarity which 
would attract the attention of an outside 
goodness manufacturer who has diffi- 
culty in disposing of his product and is 
prevented by the maximum and mini- 
mum tariff arrangements from dumping 
it into foreign markets is the enormous 
local demand. He might come to the 
discouraging conclusion that it was be- 
cause of the internal badness of the 
people that the local market did not long 
ago reach the saturation point and that all 
this ceaseless product was necessary to 
keep them even decently good. This is 
one explanation, but there are two, just 
as there were two orbits of Neptune 
which satisfied the conditions of observa- 
tions of Adams and Leverrier and it was 
only the chance coincidence, at the mo- 
ment, when their telescopes were turned 
to the spot, of the actual and the potential 
orbits which resulted in the wonderful 
discovery of the outermost planet. So 
in this case, the theory of chronic and 
desperate wickedness of Boston people 
would account for the local demand for 
the home product of goodness, just as 
much water is consumed where there is 
much thirst. But a better hypothesis, for 
it fits the facts better, is that the people 
of Boston are already exceedingly good 
and are becoming better at a geometrical 
ratio. "Let facts be submitted to a can- 
did world. " 

Let the new opera house serve as an 
illustration. It is a source of goodness 
which requires many figures to compute. 
Into the physical plant itself have gone 
hundreds of thousands of dollars. Into 



THE CONSUMPTION OF GOODNESS 



239 



the training of the gifted singers and 
musicians have gone many thousands 
more of money, plus years of constant 
exercise of patience, ambition and other 
costly virtues. Into the production of 
one particular night, the output of the 
goodness factory for one shift of hands, 
so to speak, is concentrated a large ex- 
pense for costly raw material which is 
totally consumed in the production of 
goodness as the finished fabric. This 
vast expense is on the productive, or 
active side. 

But on the passive, or receptive side, 
have gone many thousands of dollars and 
many years of thorough, critical training. 
The process may be likened to the prep- 
aration of soil for seed. It is no small or 
inexpensive matter to cut down the 
forest, extract the deep-rooted stumps, 
break up and pulverize the stubborn soil, 
fertilize and prepare for the seed. So it 
is long and costly work to prepare the 
intellectual and spiritual soil on which 
the seed of goodness is to be sown by the 
opera singers and players. 

It is amazing how the scientific aspects 
of this subject open up. Speaking broad- 
ly, the proposition is one of taking a cer- 
tain quantity of raw material and deliver- 
ing at the other end of the apparatus a 
corresponding quantity of manufactured 
product. If a given quantity of raw 
goodness fails to come out as manufac- 
tured goodness, after the material has 
been proved by experience, so that there 
is no fault to be found with that, then it 
is clear that there is some defect in the 
manufacturing process. If good eggs 
do not make a good omelet the fault is 
in the cook. Suppose that a man rides in 
a $10,000 automobile from his elegant 
home, with costly paintings and furnish- 
ings and luxurious wife, having eaten 
sumptuously of the fat of the land, to 
the new opera house, hears a $50,000 cast 
sing sweetly and expensively, and then 
goes home and makes a horrible exhibi- 
tion of bad temper, or does some other 
act equally at variance with goodness and 
light, clearly the goodness of the opera, 
with all the antecedent and subordinate 
and tributary goodness has failed of 
assimilation. That is, his system is disor- 



dered. When all the organs are func- 
tionizing normally, and when he enjoys 
the soothing susurrance of rapturous 
rhythm in his seraphic soul, it is as im- 
possible for a man to be otherwise than 
angelic as it is impossible for a mirror 
not to reflect sunlight. 

Here, then, opens up a new and seduc- 
tive field for science. How shall raw 
goodness be made to assimilate in a 
diseased nature? Evidently the patient 
is unfitted for the normal form of prepa- 
ration and needs a special diet. Nature 
must be assisted. He must have a pre- 
digested Trovatore, or a malted milk 
Lohengrin, or a peptonized Aida. Pos- 
sibly the disease is too deepseated for 
such remedies and the problem is how to 
cure the soul and make it capable of as- 
similating the normal and healthful 
forms of pure goodness. Surely here is 
a new field for medical practice, and 
there are, and are to be, Horatio, more 
things in heaven and earth than are 
dreamt of in your philosophy. 

With certain kinds of goodness the 
supply seems to be inexhaustible. There 
is no waste in supplying constant 
demands. The great painting has just as 
much goodness for the thousandth man 
who looks at it as for the first. But with 
some physical things which are sources 
of spiritual supply the monopoly by the 
few cuts off the many. The few are 
thereby made permanently and exclu- 
sively the recipients and beneficiaries of 
certain inestimable goodness, while the 
large majority of the people are perma- 
nently excluded. That is one of the 
reasons why these few are permanently 
better morally than the average of the 
people. That is the explanation of the 
superior moral and spiritual excellence of 
the people who live along the North 
Shore and of those whose magnificent 
cottages or palaces dominate the ocean's 
edge all aLng the South Shore. It is 
useless for most of the people to compete 
with them, for they have not the means 
of competition. 

This is capable of a mathematical 
demonstration. It is a fair estimate that 
the coast line of Massachusetts north of 
Boston to the state line, what is popularly 



240 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



called the North Shore and considerably 
more, is fifty miles in extent. It is fur- 
ther a fair presumption that the estates 
of the wealthy bordering upon the sea 
average at least 500 feet each. The fifty 
miles would be 264,000 feet. At 500 feet 
per family, that would be 528 families to 
find a place in this monopoly. If five 
persons be allowed to a family, which is 
more than the census average for the 
state, and gives the benefit of the doubt 
to the families under consideration, for 
they do not have as many children as 
other sorts of families, that would be an 
average of 100 feet per person for 2,640 
persons. By the state census of 1905 
there were 3,003,680 persons in the state. 
It is not excessive to estimate them at 
3,200,000 at present. Subtracting 2,640 
from this number leaves 3,197,360. Now 
the fact about the entire ocean front of 
Massachusetts is that for years there has 
been in progress a steady monopolizing 
of it by private persons. Even from 
Chicago, St. Louis and other western 
places they have come to establish sum- 
mer homes. Massachusetts people are 
cut off entirely from the uplift of the sea 
and are denied access to it, except by con- 
sent of the owners, save at the two public 
reservations of Nantasket and Revere 
beaches. 

Now see how the demonstration works 
out. The length of Revere beach is 2.59 
miles; that of Nantasket is 1.07 miles, or 
a total of 19,324.8 feet, when reduced to 
feet and added together. How much 
space for viewing the sea and absorbing 
the saline pelagic goodness is worthy a 
rational and spiritual being? In a theater, 
the seats are placed as closely as possible, 
but it would be absurd to say that one 
could get reasonable enjoyment of the 
beach on a frontage of only the width of 
his own body. According to Dickens, a 
reasonable room for a man is room 
enough to swing a cat in. Now, the 
average man, five feet and eight inches 
tall, will measure 64 inches from tip to 
tip, measured bird fashion. As to cats, 
the average torn would probably measure 
ten inches for tail and sixteen for the 
remainder, neck straight and nose out. 
Half the man's spread of wing would be 



thirty-two inches, minus three inches for 
closing the hand when grasping the cat's 
tail. Half of the tail would be needed 
for the grip. So thirty-two minus three 
plus twenty-six minus five would be fifty 
inches, the radius of the circle within 
which an average man could swing an 
average cat. This makes a circle of 100 
inches in diameter, or eight feet and four 
inches. If the aggregate length of 
Revere and Nantasket beaches be divided 
by this divisor, it will be found that the 
total number of cat-swingers who could 
be accommodated would be 2,318 and 
enough space left over for a boy to swing 
a kitten in. That is all of the immense 
population who could possibly inhale the 
goodness of the sea and get its spiritual 
uplift at one time, set as closely as that. 
If all of them wanted to go at once, there 
would be 1,374 rows of them back from 
the beach. 

If they should stand sidewise along 
the beach, in order to take up as little 
room as possible, and one foot only be 
allowed per person, — and whether that 
would suffice would depend upon the skill 
with which adiposity were alternated 
with frontal and dorsal concavities, — 
there would be room for a row of only 
19,325 persons, or 165 rows deep of them, 
if they each wanted as good a chance as 
the few on the North Shore. Take it 
another way, if each person be given 
enough room to swing a cat in and if the 
day on which they visited the beach were 
ten hours long, there would be 600 
minutes for each one of the 1,374 persons 
in the row back of each space in which to 
absorb the goodness of the sea. This 
would average forty-three one hun- 
dredths of a minute per person, or a little 
less than one and four tenths seconds. 
They could not change places at that rate, 
hustle as they might. How utterly ab- 
surd, then, to expect that the average 
people of the state will be as good as 
those who monopolize the ocean front 
and shut out the remainder from the 
magnificent breadth and unlift of nature, 
except as they get it from the over- 
crowded public reservations at Revere 
and Nantasket. 

One of Boston's strong points is its 



THE CONSUMPTION OF GOODNESS 



241 



practical philosophy. This has made its 
name pre-eminent around the habitable 
globe. To the scoffer, the city is the 
center of all ologies and isms, and by the 
use of those terms he expresses his con- 
tempt. Boston was the center of the op- 
position to the war with Mexico, which 
was popular in the country at the time, 
but was later denounced by General 
Grant as ''one of the most unjust ever 
waged by a stronger against a weaker 
nation," and was also condemned by 
Guizot, the French historian, in these 
words : "Never was a nation treated 
with such injustice, such insolence, such 
perfidy, such cruelty, as Mexico was by 
the United States." Boston was the fore- 
front of the anti-slavery agitation, as it is 
of anti-imperialism. Now this all comes 
from Boston's philosophy and conscience, 
and a cardinal principle of Boston's 
philosophy is that mind and matter act 
and react upon each other. Mind con- 
trols matter, to be sure, but matter has 
a prodigious effect upon mind and spirit. 
Mens sana in cor pore sano is an axiom, 
and the corpus cannot be sanum unless it 
is well fed. 

Hence comes Boston's pre-eminence as 
a city famous for good dinners. It would 
be easy to demonstrate that Boston's 
philosophy, anti-slavery zeal, anti-im- 
perialism and other excellencies are but 
the transmuted forms of beef and beans, 
turkey and truffles, capon and cranber- 
ries. At all times of the year the reader 
of "What is going on tonight" in the 
Transcript will find a list of dinners. It 
is longer or shorter according to the 
season, — longer in winter, but always 
there are some dinners. Every profes- 
sion and employment of men, and many 
of women, is organized, and it has an 
annual dinner, or a monthly, or some 
other -ly. Gastronomy and goodness, 
potatoes and progress, coffee and Chris- 
tianity, beef and benevolence, these are 
associated ideas among the practical 
philosophers of the modern Athens. 

A public dinner is a perfect symphony 
of goodness, a transmuter of raw 
material into love for fellow men, a 
stimulant of souls. Take a specimen, for 
illustration. It opens with a scherzo of 



grape fruit ; then comes an allegretto of 
Cotuits on the half shell ; then a moderato 
of fried smelts with tartare sauce; then 
a largo of filet de boeuf avec cham- 
pignons; then a staccato of Roman 
punch ; a gavotte of widgeon on toast ; a 
penseroso of fruited frozen pudding avec 
rhum, mostly rum, for spiritual effect ; 
then an andante cantabile of salted al- 
monds ; then an allegro of camembert 
and crackers, a finale of coffee, and a dip- 
fingeroso with cut glass and spotless 
linen. Various imported liquids and 
dried, imported and rolled tobacco leaves 
for burning are mixed or added ad 
libitum. 

With such overwhelming forces mak- 
ing for goodness, how, in the name of all 
that is beatific, can any one who goes 
through the process fail to become a 
virtuoso of the first magnitude? The 
mystery of so much goodness in Boston 
is solved. If a formula for the manufac- 
turing process of making a carload of 
beef from Chicago and of vegetables 
from a Middlesex truck farm into the 
essence of pure goodness is wanted by 
any other city, doubtless Landlord Whip- 
ple of the Touraine and Parker's can give 
various recipes, each of peculiar virtue, 
for the creation of distinct brands, say 
for courage, perseverance, generosity, 
and so on, each proved by experience in 
the case of some illustrious Bostonian 
and each warranted to succeed if the 
directions are faithfully followed. For 
instance, in Parker's old safe in the 
Parker House there is probably a recipe 
indorsed "Phillips Brooks," for he has 
been seen eating there. Mr. W r hipple, as 
successor of Parker, would be justified 
in saying to any minister who had an 
ambition to equal* Brooks in reputation: 
"First, eat what Brooks ate ; then go 
out and preach as Brooks preached and 
do among needy men and women as 
Brooks did and I will guarantee that 
your reputation will equal his, or I will 
forfeit to you fifty thousand dollars." 

By a mathematical demonstration the 
safety of Whipple's offer can be worked 
out. Suppose that x equals Brooks as 
nature made him and that y equals the 
other minister as nature made him. Let 



242 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



any given definite number, say four, 
represent the efficiency of Brooks. Then 
the ratio is this : x ; y : : 4 : ( ) , the 
fourth term of the proportion being the 
efficiency y must have or Whipple loses 
his fifty thou. Multiplying the means 
together produces Ay, and dividing them 
by x leaves the quotient for the fourth 
term the algebraic expression, Ay over x. 
Now let z equal the food which Brooks 
ate. It is an axiom in ratios that if both 
terms are multiplied by the same mul- 
tiplier the ratio is not altered. Therefore 
the new proportion \s xz : yz : : 4 : ( ) . 
Again, multiplying the means together, 
the product is Ayz, and, dividing this by 
xz, the quotient is Ayz over xz, and can- 
celling the ^asa common term of numer- 
ator and denominator, the fraction, 
reduced to its lowest terms is Ay over x, 
the same as before, and Whipple saves 
his money. 

Two other suppositions are possible, 
for it will be noticed that it is implied, 
by the fact that y eats Brooks's food, that 
he is at least as large as Brooks. The 
supposition that he is smaller and eats 
as much must be ruled out, for no decent 
minister would overeat. The original 
supposition being of equality in eating 
capacity, x and y are equal to unity, and 
the fourth term of the proportion equals 
the third, or four. But the remaining 
supposition is that y is larger than 
Brooks. To avoid fractions in the com- 
putation, suppose that he is twice as 
large. Then the equation, putting into 
each man the same quantity of raw 
material, is xz : yz : : 4 : ( ) , and it works 
out that the fourth term equals eight. 
That is, the same quantity of raw good- 
ness in a man twice the size of Brooks 
results in twice the efficiency of Brooks, 
and there is fifty thousand coming to 
Whipple, if y has a gentleman's apprecia- 
tion of a square deal. 

Take another proposition. Suppose 
that y's regular ration is w, of only half 
the value of z, the other terms remaining 
the same. Then the proportion works 
out that the fourth term is only two, in- 
stead of four. That is, given a minister 
just the same as Brooks and feed him 
only half as well and he will turn out only 



half as large a ministerial product. In 
other words, it is a mighty poor business 
proposition to hire a minister and not pay 
him a good living salary. 

Comparisons are inevitable in studying 
the costs and the results of the consump- 
tion of goodness. At the rooms of the 
Massachusetts Bible Society on Brom- 
field street in Boston are all sorts of 
Bibles as to print, paper, binding, 
revisions, illustrations, concordances, dic- 
tionaries, glossaries, antiquities, geo- 
graphy, botany, fauna, flora, history and 
other accessories. There are the King 
James version, the revision of 1881, the 
latest American revision, the Twentieth 
Century Testament, and what not besides. 
All prices are to be noted, and there is a 
whole Bible, in excellent type, good 
paper, and fairly durable cloth binding 
for twenty-six cents. Now, to give the 
computation the benefit of reasonable 
doubt, let it be assumed that the searcher 
for goodness in the Bible reads the 
volume through once in a year. That 
would require a very material portion for 
every day, doubtless much more than the 
average Bostonian reads per day, taking 
the city as a whole, Christians, Jews, 
Mohammedans and pagans, combined. 
Once a year would be 26-365ths of a 
cent per day as the cost of Bible good- 
ness. Compared with the Bible, there- 
fore, the opera, if it justify itself by its 
product, must prove that its practical, 
working goodness is to Bible goodness as 
dollars are to cents. As a financial 
proposition for the investment of capital. 
Which pays the highest dividend in mar- 
ket value of product, or in beneficence to 
the community, the twenty-six cents 
spent for a Bible, or the dollars which are 
imperative for an evening at the opera? 

Statistics of health abound in proof of 
the wholesome effect of good things upon 
their subject. Sanitation pays in dollars 
and "a merry heart doeth good like a 
medicine." For instance, Mrs. Jack 
Gardner weighs less than some women 
who weigh more, and this mystery be- 
comes as transparent as a Kellar presti- 
digitation when it is computed what a 
physical lightness follows the joy of soul 
in the presence of masterful paintings, 



THE CONSUMPTION OF GOODNESS 



243 



and especially when the goodness caused 
by the paintings is transformed into good 
deeds for the public. That is an inci- 
dental effect of the Venetian palace of art 
and of course it occurs also in all who 
enjoy her unusual public spirit and rare 
generosity. 

At this point an expert philologist, un- 
prejudiced against the Mosaic dispensa- 
tion and appreciative of the relation of 
light and lightness to goodness, could 
demonstrate the connection between the 
law of levitation and the ancient levitical 
law, but such an excursion would be 
foreign to the present purpose. Major 
Henry L. Higginson, with his military 
figure and elastic step, is an illustration 
in the field of symphonies of the light- 
some effect of goodness in the realm of 
music. All who hear the symphony 
orchestra must be better, other things 
being equal, than those who do not hear 
it. Any other conclusion flies in the face 
of the laws of the transmission of force 
and the conservation of energy. So one 
saint helps to make other people saintly 
and the major's own figure is his crown 
of glory and honorary degree of apprecia- 
tion. 

Explanation of the common fact that 
many people are constant recipients of 
large quantities of goodness and yet never 
show visible results, but are glum and 
gloomy to every one, may be offered by 
saying that they are storing it all up in an 
inside reservoir. But why should they 
mystify the public and injure their own 
reputations ? One cannot tell, by looking 
at a water-tight dam from below, whether 
there is any water in the reservoir or not. 
It is a very exceptional dam if some 
water does not trickle through, particu- 
larly if there is great pressure. The 
chances are that if no water shows, no 
water is there. But suppose that these 
persons are really unsuspected reservoirs 
of pure goodness, which is better, to let 
the water run all through life, a power 
for a large manufacturing plant of good- 
ness, bearing fertility also for the water- 
ed ground below, or to hold it all back, 
manufacturing nothing and having the 
reputation of a dry sandheap ? 

Now bring some of these truths to a 



focus in these days of civic reform and 
generous philanthropy. On the one 
hand, take the family which gets, has, or 
enjoys the full fruition of goodness pour- 
ing in upon it from ocean and opera, 
statuary and symphonies, art and 
architecture, mountains and music, travel 
and treasure, paintings and poetry, dress 
and diamonds, horses and houses, books 
and beef, drama and dances, carpets and 
concerts, automobiles and aeroplanes, 
philosophy and fiction, brains and beauty, 
servants and silver, vases and vacuum 
carpet-cleaners, wine and woodcock and 
the remainder of the alphabet besides, 
and compute, if possible, how much 
should be the annual output of goodness 
from that family, for all within its 
circle, the city, the state and the world. 
On the other hand, take a family shut out 
from ocean and mountains, from light 
and fresh air, living in dirt and disease, 
ignorance and vice, whose household 
goods are all bads, where shin bones and 
cabbage and like articles supply the raw 
material of physical goodness, where no 
pictures are ever seen, no music ever 
heard, no Bible ever read, no art ever 
seen, no supplies of any kind to compare 
with the other family, but only hard 
work and small pay, with perhaps a 
drunken father or mother, or both, and 
how much of a goodness output ought 
such a plant to produce compared with 
the other? Laws of mind and of matter 
operate inexorably in both cases. Cause 
and effect go on as remorselessly as death 
and taxes. 

As a square mathematical proposition, 
a question for Harvey S. Chase, reform- 
ing public accountant in Boston, or for 
Charles F. Gettemy, chief of the state 
bureau of statistics, to figure out on his 
computing machines, what annual pro- 
duct should these two contrasted manu- 
facturing plants show to the census- 
taker ? Where can money be spent to do 
the most good in the world as a goodness 
investment ? Is it in trying to make over 
the poor plant so as to improve and in- 
crease its product, or in lavishing more 
upon opera and automobiles to get more 
pure goodness out of them? These are 
practical issues today. 






>-.<v.. 



John Shepard 






MERCHANT prince and lover of horses are the 
chief characteristics of John Shepard, the dean 
of Boston dry goods men. 

His life has been one of great achievement, 
of success where others failed, and the many organiza- 
tions and companies with which he has been connected 
from time to time have all profited by his rare ability and 
tremendous energy. 

In 1853 he started in the dry goods business under the 
firm name of John Shepard and Company. A keen busi- 
ness man, he was successful from the start, and in 1861 
he bought out Bell, Thing and Company, of Tremont 
Row, which he continued until 1865, under the name of 
Farley and Shepard. When he first opened his store or 
Winter Street, Mr. Shepard saw it would become one of 
the principal business thoroughfares. At this time, he 
organized the firm of Shepard, Norwell and Company. 
Mr. Shepard is an ardent lover of fast horses, and has 
owned a number that were world record breakers. In 
the sixties, his physician having recommended driving as 
a recreation, he first became interested in horses. He 
bought the best that money could buy, and his Old Trot 
vvas well known to horsemen. 




We have the word of Harvard's head 
coach that the "flying tackle" is to be used 
when necessary and the penalty accepted. 
This in spite of its prohibition. 

It is this method of interpreting rules 
that is the real difficulty with the game, 
rather than the rules themselves. A rule 
forbidding any action in the game should 
be regarded as an absolute interdict 
which it is a disgrace to disregard. The 
whole system of penalties is wrong. 
Suppose that in Baseball it should be 
■allowable for a baseman to obstruct a 
runner by accepting some slight penalty, 
such as two strikes instead of three at 



the bat! The game would instantly be- 
come a rough house. The New England 
Magazine has pleaded from the begin- 
ning of the reform movement for few 
and simple rules, the abolition of the 
penalty system and the replacing of the 
referee's minute lordship with a spirit of 
fair play and true sportsmanship. As 
soon as it shall come to be felt, as it 
should be felt, that to win by injuring an 
opposing player, is unsportsmanlike and 
low, just so soon will the list of injuries 
decrease. The present method of legis- 
lation is powerless by its very minuteness 
and exaggeration of control. 




A group of Yale coaches 



J45 




Photograph by Aram 



Brookins in a Wright machine 



THE HARVARD-BOSTON 
AVIATION MEET 

The brilliant success of this first at- 
tempt at enlightening the New England 
public in the genuine achievements and 
real difficulties of aviation by the aero- 
plane was a revelation, even to its 
promoters, of the depth of the public in- 
terest. 

Mingled with the curiosity is a real 
eagerness to know, accompanied by a 
profound faith in the near approach of 
practical transportation by air-ships of 
one kind or another. Mr. Graham- 
White's consistent performances were 
easily the feature of the meet. Although 
his personal work was less brilliant than 
that of some others, he was always doing 
something to interest those who had paid 
the price, and his powerful motor gave 
him the speed that won the principal 
prize. The need of more powerful and 
ever more powerful motors, is the lesson 
that the majority of the aviators them- 
selves carried away from the meet. But 
it will be well if some of our American 
experts also learned a lesson that they 
will not forget as to what is due the 

246 



public who pay for an exhibition. Tuning 
up in a tent does not constitute an exhibi- 
tion of flying. On the other hand, dare- 
devil feats and thrillers are not necessary 
to make a "show." The public is quick 
to recognize skill and nerve, but it 
requires no extreme hazards for its 
amusement. When an engagement is 
made to appear at a public exhibition, the 
work required is that of giving ample 
opportunity to all present to see the work 
of the aviator and his machine, and 
hanging around a "hangar" does not do 
that. The consensus of opinion was 
that the "Wright Brothers" have a won- 
derful machine, probably the best, and 
Brookins and Johnson are daring and 
brilliant aviators ; that Curtis was un- 
lucky and could have given a good ac- 
count of himself in the speed events; 
that Willard is an aviator of much 
promise ; and lastly that Graham-White 
did the consistent work that made the 
meet a success. 



AN INTERESTING CANDIDACY 
Mr. Cleveland A. Chandler, vice- 
president of the H B. Humphrey Com- 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



247 



pany, of Boston, and one of the most 
widely known advertizing men of New 
England, is a candidate for the Repub- 
lican nomination as representative to the 
General Court from the Eighth Plymouth 
district of Massachusetts. When young 
men of Mr. Chandler's business ability 
and integrity are willing to become can- 
didates for election to the General Court, 
the days of professional politics are 
numbered. 

Mr. Chandler is a resident of Bridge- 
water, and comes of a family long 
prominent in New England affairs. 



MR. 



FARLOW MAKES A STATE- 
MENT 
Editor New England Magazine, 

In your August issue there appeared 
an article by Pauline Carrington Bouve 
on the Shaker Society, which is very good 
indeed in so far as it confines itself to 
the subject in hand, but in it are a few 
references to Christian Science which 
need a supplement. For example, it is 
said: "The Shakeis hold as a funda- 
mental doctrine the duality of God, mani- 
festing the masculine and feminine sex 



principle in Spirit." Again, "It will be 
of interest to note here that the identical 
God Father-Mother idea is one of the 
fundamental features of the Christian 
Science faith." 

As a matter of fact Christian Science is 
in strict accord with the teaching of St. 
Paul: "There is neither bond nor free; 
there is neither male nor female : for ye 
are all one in Christ Jesus." Christian 
Science teaches that there is no sex in 
Spirit, as the word is understood in its 
current use. It agrees with the Scrip- 
tural teaching that God is Spirit and 
Spiiit is the one infinite Mind, the only 
cause or creator and insists that there is 
just as much ground to apply the term 
Mother as there is to apply the term 
Father to divine Spirit since Spirit in- 
cludes the fullness of parenthood. God 
is not only the Father but the Mother of 
all creation ; that is, God does not share 
his creative power with anything else, 
but Spirit is infinite, whole complete, all 
within itself. It is not proper to refer to 
this doctrine as being peculiar to Chris- 
tian Science. It is the teaching of primi- 
tive Christianity and doubtless the belief 




f~ Photograph by Aram 



Graham-White in his Bleriot 



248 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



of all Christians. Neither is it proper to 
refer to the doctrine that keeping pure 
and free the desires of the soul insures 
health of the body, since the Scriptures 
teach, "Whether is easier to say: Thy 
sins be forgiven thee, or to say : Rise up 
and walk ?" And the Master said : "Seek 
ye lirst the kingdom of God and his 
righteousness and all these things shall be 
added unto you." All that is essential to 
the harmony and existence of man will 
surely follow that state or condition 
wherein our heavenly Father is recog- 
nized as supreme and the righteous con- 
duct which characterizes such a belief is 
in evidence. Neither is it proper to at- 
tach the adjective, "peculiar," to the 
teaching that "physical ailments can be 
cured by the application of Spirit power." 
This too is the teaching of the Scrip- 
tures. Jesus and his apostles healed after 
this manner and the Master said: "He 
that believeth on me the works that I do 
shall he do also." 

On the marriage subject, Christian 
Science is not in any sense akin to the 
Delief and practice which this article 
ascribes to the Shakers. In the Christian 
Science church, as in most other denom- 
inations, the question of marriage is left 
to individual discretion. It is proper, 
however, to note that Christian Science 
demands absolute purity of marriage life 
and the doom of sensualism may be 
found on every page of the Christian 
Science text book. Mrs. Eddy insists 
that "Marriage is the legal and moieal 
provision for generation among human 
land," and that it must be entered into 
with a view to elevating and happifying 
the human race. 

Yours sincerely, 

ALFRED FARLOW. 



A PRINCE'S INCOME 
Although the Prince of Wales is a boy 
of but sixteen years of age, he enjoys by 
hereditary right, without further allow- 
ance from Parliament, an income of 
£87,500 annually from his Cornwall 
estates. And these are said to be grow- 
ing so rapidly in value that this income 
is likely to be enormously increased in 
the near future. The good Queen had 
canny foresight in such matters, and a 



certain thrift has characterized all mem- 
bers of the present English royal family. 
The enjoyment (?) of this huge in- 
come by the royal school-boy is not 
looked upon with favour by thoughtful 
people. Even outside of the radical 
ranks, there is very pointed criticism, and 
a suggestion that the Cornwall estates 
might well be regarded as sufficient for 
all the royal children, without the ad- 
ditional appropriations which they sever- 
ally enjoy at present. 




The sharp criticism in a current pub- 
lication of the trustees of the Boston 
Public Library for what is termed their 
overhasty action in awarding the con- 
tract to Mr. Bela S. Pratt for sculptures 
to adorn the long waiting pediments that 
flank the entrance of the library building 
afford a pleasant opportunity to speak 
again of these truly remarkable works of 
art. 

As to the points raised by the critic in 
the "Boston Common," we do not find 
ourselves particularly interested. They 
bear all the earmarks of one of those 
petty squabbles without which it seems 
impossible to carry through any masterly 
enterprise. The good sense of the city 
of Boston, whatever may be the merits of 
the minor dispute raised, will not allow 
such an issue to interfere with the satis- 
factory completion of a noble public 
work. 

What concerns us more nearly is the 
attempt to throw a slur on the artistic 
merit of Mr. Pratt's designs. While it is 
futile so far as the ultimate opinion is 
concerned, criticism of this nature may 
have the temporary effect to disparage 
the public mind for a work that should 
be received only with the highest ap- 
preciation and most eager welcome. 

In his two collosal figures of Science 
and Art, Mr. Pratt has achieved some- 
thing of that later symbolism which is 
the expression of the best thought of our 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



249 




The Prince of Wales whose income of £87,500 is likely to cause 

SHARP CRITICISM 



time. The great symbolism of antiquity 
can never again be ours. It was the 
creation of a definite consciousness of the 
highest significance in natural objects, 
which had at first been the subject of 
worship in their crude materiality. The 
naivete, the joyousness of that new-born 
freedom can never be imitated, never 
lived again in the world-weary conscious- 
ness of an over-sophisticated age, but 
there is a newer symbolism finding ex- 



pression among us that is very deep. 

Mr. Pratt's figure of Science is not a 
Minerva from the golden age, nor is it a 
cold piece of imitative classicism. It is 
the science whose ultimate achievement 
has been the knowledge that it does not 
know. It is full of a brooding mystery, 
hears the sound of falling water and 
knows that no formulae from the atomic 
theory or the law of gravitation ex- 
presses its significance. In the reticence 



250 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



of outline, the subdued. edges, the lowered 
eyes and| a modelling too subtle to 
analyse, Mr. Pratt has told this story and 
achieved a figure symbolic of our thought 
of the attitude of our day. The despair 
of science is the hope of art, and that is 
present in the firstly virtue of this very 
subduement, and the figure of art shines 
forthwith as a new hope. 

To speak of these two beautiful crea- 
tions as the critic in the " Boston Com- 
mon" does as "Mr. Pratt's two pretty 
girls" is either so shallow or so impertin- 
ently flippant as to defeat its owfl pur- 
pose. As to their artistic fitness for the 
setting in which they will appear, the 
skill with which Mr. Pratt has rhet this 
exceedingly difficult condition is by no 
means the smallest part of his achieve- 
ment. On this he has staked a reputation 
earned by many repeated successes, and 
the public may rest assured that their 
beautiful library building, of which they 
all are justly proud, will not be blotted by 
an "inartistic mistake." 

If the favorable verdict of posterity 
can be awaited with the same confidence 
for the decorative work of the interior 
walls as for this design of Mr. Pratt's, we 
will have sufficient cause for rejoicing. 




One of the most artistically commend- 
able events of the New England musical 
year is the annual fall musical festival at 
Worcester. The concluding concert in 
the Mechanics Hall was an exceptional 
one. Mme. Yolande Mero, the famous 
European pianist, Mr. Van Norden. 
Herbert Witherspoon, Mile. Dimitrieff 
and George Hamlin and the Boston 
Symphony Orchestra were the artists of 
Friday. The program was an unusual 
one, Mme. Mero played Liszt's Con- 
certo in A major in a wonderful man- 
ner. She plays with virtnosic -Irtish and 
taste and fairly magnetized her audience. 
Maud Powell was the artist of Thursday 



and played the Saint Saens Concerto in 
B minor. In the evening, Mr. Mees con- 
ducting, Bantock's setiing of Omar 
Khayam was given. 

The Orchestra pi aye 1 the Cesar 
Franck Symphony ; n D minor as its 
principal number. 

The first concert of the Boston Sym- 
phony year will commemorate the one 
hundredth anniversary of the birth of 
Schumann. The overture to "Manfred" 
and the overture to Genoreva, his Rhen- 
ish symphony and his concerto for 
violincello with Mr. Alwin Schroeder as 
soloist, will make up the program of the 
evening of October eighth. 

On October 14th and 15th the 
orchestra will give Rachmaninoff's Sym- 
phony in D minor and Goldmark's Violin 
Concerto with Francis Macmillen, violin- 
ist assisting artist. 

Boston Opera Season will open with 
the production of "L'Enfant Prodigue," 
by Claude Debussy. This is the work 
which won the Premier Grand Prix de 
Rome for the composer. This will be a 
first time performance and its execution 
will be entrusted to Andre Caplet, who 
has already prepared the work under the 
direct supervision of the composer. The 
production will be in French. 

Another novelty to be given in French 
is "Habanera," by Laparra, which will 
also be presented for the first time. This 
work was presented at the Opera 
Comique with immense success and will 
be of especial interest because it repres- 
ents a new tendency in the modern 
French school. 

Another novelty will be given by ar- 
rangement with the Metropolitan Opera 
Company, "The Girl of the Golden 
West," by Puccini, the first performance 
of which will take place at the Metropol- 
itan Opera House on December sixth, on 
a non-subscription evening at increased 
prices. An immense cost is involved in 
obtaining the rights to produce Puccini's 
new opera for the first time in America 
and the Boston Opera Company will also 
follow the example of New York and 
give the first performance on a non- 
subscription evening. 

Mr. Frederick S. Converse will be 
represented among the list of composers 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



251 



by the production of his new opera en- 
titled "The Sacrifice," which will be 
sung in English next February. This 
work is a real achievement as artistic 
American opera. The musical direction 
of this work will be in the hands of Mr. 
Wallace Goodrich. 

The conductors for the season are Mr. 
Arnaldo Conti, Mr. Wallace Goodrich, 
Mr. Andre Caplet and Mr. Roberto 
Moranzi. Mr. Moranzi is well known 
in Italy and has conducted in Milan, 
Rome and other principal cities. 

The Chorus will consist of one hun- 
dred and twenty-five singers. Mr. Oreste 
Sbavaglia has spent the summer months 
in training a chorus of carefully selected 
American girls. These singers and 
about eighty experienced choristers will 
be under the direction of Mr. Sbavaglia, 
assisted by Mr. Ralph Lyford. 

The Corps de ballet will be under the 
general supervision of Mr. Bonfiglio who 
will be assisted by Mme. Muschietto and 
Mile. Maria Paporella. 

The Saturday evening performances at 
popular prices will be a special feature 
next season. Also, popular Sunday 
evening concerts will be given. The 
programmes will consist of operatic 
selections and excerpts from oratorios 
with the co-operation of the full Boston 
Opera orchestra. 

By virtue of a working agreement ex- 
isting between the Boston, Metropolitan 
and Chicago Opera Companies there is 
to be an exchange of artists which will 
increase attractiveness of the list. 

The first performance will occur on 
Monday, November seventh, when 
"L'Enfant Prodigue," by Debussy, will 
be given. 

The season will last twenty weeks. 
There will be eighty regular subscription 
performances. 

Mr. Oscar Hammerstein has pur- 
chased a plot in Kingsway on which to 
build a new London Opera House. He 
will give operas of all nationalities and 
of some of them he has the sole perform- 
ing rights. As to whether London will 
encouraee and patronize and foster the 
enterprising efforts of this New Yorker 
remains to be seen. 



MAINE MUSIC FESTIVALS 

For the fourteenth season the an- 
nouncement is made of a "Grand Opera 
Festival." It may truly be so called, as 
it piesents six grand opera stars, and the 
choral numbers include excerpts from 
six grand operas. So while there is one 
special opera night for the production of 
an entire opera, every concert will pre- 
sent a grand opera program, with one or 
more star soloists. The artists are all 
new to the Maine Festivals except Cecil 
Fanning, who is a festival favorite and 
will be welcomed for the third season. 
Each of the other artists has made a 
name and fame, not only in New York, 
but in the other musical centers of the 
world. 

This commendable and important 
artistic event is under the able direction 
of W. R. Chapman. The list of artists 
includes Mme. Alma Gluck, Luigi 
Samolli, Marie Rappold, Marie Desmond, 
Guiseppe Pimazonni, Estelle Harris, 
Cecil Fanning and others. There will be 
a festival chorus of six hundred voices 
and a New York orchestra. 




THE HOLLIS STREET THEATRE 
The presentation of "Love Among the 
Lions" at the Hollis Street Theatre 
which began last week was doubly in- 
teresting because in addition to the bright 
fun with which Winchell Smith has 
dramatized Anstey's famous novel Bos- 
ton theatre-goers also enjoyed one of the 
cleverest comedians that has ever visited 
this city. From the moment that A. E. 
Matthews walked with serious face and 
diffident tread upon the stage of the 
Hollis the first night the big audience 
began to chuckle and from that time on 
Mr. Matthews who never once smiled 
during four acts, never allowed his 
audience one serious moment. 

This attraction is followed by the 



252 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



David Belasco production, "The Lily," 
with Nance O'Neil and Charles Cart- 
wright in the title roles. Miss O'Neil is 
one of the most earnest, hard-working 
actresses on the stage. It was her faith- 
ful work at rehearsals that attracted Mr. 
Belasco's attention and secured for her 
her present engagement, a five year con- 
tract. 

With several strong attractions in the 
leading local houses, "The Lily," is cer- 
tain, nevertheless, to step to the forefront 
of popular interest. Miss O'Neil is a 
favourite with the New England public, 
and her audiences will include many who 
will be drawn to Boston to enjoy her ap- 
pearance in this unusual play. 

The engagement at the Hollis Street 
Theatre is very limited and the play will 
be seen nowhere else in New England. 
During this week there will be matinees 
on Wednesday and Saturday. 



GERTRUDE ELLIOTT IN "THE 
DAWN OF A TO-MORROW." 

Gertrude Elliott (Mrs. Forbes-Robert- 
son) in "The Dawn of a To-morrow" is 
announced as the attraction at the 
Schubert Theatre for the first two weeks 
of October. While the play has not yet 
been seen here, the reputation that has 
preceded it is sufficient guarantee that it 
will prove a welcome treat to local 
theatre-goers. In it Miss Elliott seems 
unquestionably to have scored the per- 
sonal hit of her career. And the play 
seems one of quite unusual importance. 
It is by Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett, 
author of "Little Lord Fauntleroy" and 
many other semi-classics of modern 
times, and is founded upon one of the 
most remarkable of her stories, which 
bears the same title as the play. It was 
produced at the Lyceum Theatre in New 
York with Eleanor Robson in the role of 
Glad and ran many months. When it 
visited London, Miss Elliott appeared in 
the leading role and made so pronounced 
a hit that an American tour was arranged 
for her. 

The story deals with the reclamation 
of the fast-decaying brains of one of 
England's greatest men by the revelation 
of a page of life in London's darkest 



slums through the agency of an untu- 
tored daughter of God, "Glad," a queer 
little waif of the streets. There is some- 
thing quaint and fantastical in the little 
tale, though it is so artistically handled as 
to prevent all conflict with the rigid laws 
of probability. It is much like a comedy 
of Barries in this respect though it deals 
with problems more far-reaching than 
any the Scotch genius has yet attacked 
upon the stage. A thoroughly adequate 
production has been supplied by Liebler 
and Company, said to be conspicuous for 
the marvellous reproduction of a fog in 
the scene in the Whitechapel slums. 



MARIE DORO AT THE PARK 
THEATRE 

A new play by Mr. Gillette is always a 
matter of unusual interest, and "Elec- 
tricity" is his first effort in six years — 
in other words his first new play since 
"Clarice," a work which enjoyed one 
of the most remarkable successes ever 
achieved in Boston. "Electricity," in 
its few preliminary performances, has 
already proved that its author, in his 
twenty odd years of writing for the 
stage, has never done anything more 
amusing. It is a comedy with a wide 
range of humor, now delightfully human, 
now whimsical, but always pleasantly 
balanced by serious moments in which 
the author is able to give his audience a 
taste of his American philosophy. 

In the central figure of the play, Marie 
Doro, a young actress of strong local 
popularity, is said to have a wholly 
charming role and quite the best op- 
portunity of her stage career. The star 
will be surrounded by an excellent com- 
pany, including John L. Shine, Edwin 
Nicander, Shelley Hull, Harry Barfcot, 
Francis D. McGinn, Henry Hall, Allan 
Fawcett, Mrs. Thomas Whiffen, Ann 
Murdock, Myrtle Tannehill and Liane de 
Bellefraie. 



THE FORTUNE HUNTER AT THE 
TREMONT THEATRE 

"The Fortune Hunter," with John 
Barrymore in the leading role, is here 
for a run. The play won its spurs in 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



253 




Marie Doro 



New York, where it was received by the 
critics and the public alike with the ut- 
most enthusiasm. The reasons for this 
are not hard to find. In the first place, 
"The Fortune Hunter" is a real play 
with a real motive and makes a genuine 
appeal to the better sides of human 
nature. It is so good a play that it would 
survive even an indifferent presentation. 
As a matter of fact it is capitally staged 
and well acted in its presentation at the 



Tremont. On this solid foundation of a 
really good thing, is built a construction 
full of vivacity and sparkle. John Bar- 
rymore gives us real comedy in these 
parts, while Mary Ryan is most engaging 
in the role of heroine. 

Realism in scenery is seldom carried 
further than in the rain storm that 
deluges the young lovers. Altogether, it 
is a play from which one goes away 
heartily pleased, and that is a great 



254 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



thing. For we go to the theatre, not to 
add to the glumness of life and the 
depression of spirit which the day's work 
is usually quite sufficiently competent to 
produce, but for the forgetting of all this 
and the reawakening of mirth and glad- 
ness. Because "The Fortune Hunter" 
can do this for us, it is, and deserves to 
be, a winner. 



"THE ARCADIANS" AT THE 
COLONIAL THEATRE 

In "The Arcadians," which is crowd- 
ing the Colonial Theatre to capacity, 
Manager Charles Frohman has shown 
to what heights of artistry musical 
comedy may be brought. With a laugh 
in every line there is never a moment 
when the fun descends to the vulgar; 
with more than a score of song numbers 
there is not one that does not charm us 
by its originality of theme and treatment 
and exquisiteness of interpretation. Mr. 
Frohman has done the seemingly impos- 
sible in making every detail of this pro- 
duction contribute to the gratification of 
the eye and the ear. The beauty of every 
woman in the company from principal to 
chorus girl, the wonderful blending of 
colors in the fresh costumes, the three 
stage settings that are dreams of the 
scene-painter's art fill the eye with 
delight while the ear is charmed by won- 
derful melodies woven by an unusually 
well drilled orchestra. 

In the selection of an ideal cast for 
"The Arcadians" there was no more diffi- 
cult problem than that of finding a young 
woman whose charm in the role of a 
sweet Irish lass would not fade against 
the poetic beauty of the Arcadian dam- 
sels but in Julia Sanderson, dainty, sweet 
as a rose and graceful as a fawn, Mr. 
Frohman seems to have found the one 
person in all the world who would realize 
the author's ideal. To hear Miss Saun- 
derson sing "The Girl With a Brogue" or 
"Charming Weather," would be worth 
sitting through three hours of any enter- 
tainment, but these are but two gems in 
a diadem of sparkling, rollicking mirth 
and melody. Percival Knight's sad-faced 
Peter Doody is a classic of comedy, while 
Frank Moulan, Ethel Cadman, Connie 



Ediss, Mary MacKid, Alan Mudie, 
Harold Clemence and a score of other 
principals, reinforced by a remarkably 
attractive chorus contribute to a com- 
bination of song and fun that has made 
"The Arcadians" a sensational success. 
As "The Arcadians" will not be seen 
elsewhere in New England the manage- 
ment of the Colonial Theatre has ar- 
ranged to give special attention to mail 
orders from out of town. There will be 
matinees on Wednesdays and Saturdays. 
"The Arcadians" will be followed later at 
the Colonial by that other great Frohman 
musical success, "The Dollar Princess." 




THE LITERATURE OF THE 
SOUTH BOOKS 

"The Southerner as a type, is very 
much greater than the Southerner as a 
literary artist; in fact, nowhere can we 
afford to lose the man in the writer, so 
strong is his inheritance, so individual his 
personality, so typical his action, so 
peculiar his cast of thought. The art 
value is in no way to be compared with 
the life value of Southern literature." 

This sentence extracted from "The 
Literature of the South," by Montrose J. 
Moses, gives a key to the spirit in which 
the work is done. The author has wisely 
avoided the temptation to overdo his sub- 
ject. Indeed, it is doubtful if he has 
allowed all that might be to the influence 
on the world-mind of Poe and Lanier, 
or that he lias claimed Poe for the South 
in as deep and genuine a sense as might 
be. We would have willingly seen larger 
space given to negro minstrelsy and a 
stronger plea for the real lyric and 
national character of the best of the war 
songs, such as "Maryland, My Mary- 
land," and "Dixie." The work of Paul 
Dunbar seems to have received less at- 
tention than its due, and the writings of 
men who exploit the South as a topic 
rather more. 

But these very criticisms are an indica- 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



255 



tion of the extreme interest of the book 
and its thoroughness. Rather a con- 
tribution to literary history than to 
literary criticism, it is yet of no slight 
value from the latter standpoint, and, in 
spite of the vast amount of information 
condensed within its pages, the author 
has succeeded in producing a most en- 
tertaining and readable book. It is pub- 
lished in a large, illustrated octavo vol- 
ume by Thomas Y. Crowell and Com- 
pany for $2.50 net.. 



FLAMSTED QUARRIES 
This is the title of a new book by Mary 
E. Waller, the author of 'The Wood- 
Carver of 'Lympus." Miss Waller is a 
Boston woman who spends much of her 
present time in the Vermont hills. She 
was first known by her charming story 
of New York street gamins, "Little 
Citizens." "The Wood-Carver of 'Lym- 
pus," which came out in 1904, has been 
one of the most popular books of recent 
years. The demand has constantly in- 
creased and it has recently gone into its 
twenty-sixth edition. 

Flamsted Quarries is an American 
novel of social and industrial problems of 
conditions of the present day. The scene 
opens upon a vaudeville stage, — the per- 
formance of little Aileen whose earnest 
little soul so moves a fatherly priest that 
he succeeds in getting to an asylum for 
homeless children and a little later we 
find the scene Flamsted, Maine, among 
the sweet, plain, wholesome life of the 
granite quarries' toilers. It is most in- 
teresting and human and appealing; the 
plot is totally absorbing, trie character 
delineation is inimitable in its manner of 
presentation and its achievement in ac- 
complishing intimate acquaintance with 
the people of the story. It is a story of 
self-sacrificing love and of toil and duty 
and is in every way the best novel of the 
year. It surely will become genuinely 
popular. 

The book is illustrated bv G. Patrick 
Nelson and published bv Little. Brown 
and Company, Boston, cloth $1.50. 



Moulton, Poet and Friend," Lillian 
Whiting gives us an intimate and charm- 
ing picture of that much loved and very 
lovable Boston poet. 

lier surroundings, her personality, the 
life that she lived are brought out in a 
way that illuminates a most interesting 
chapter in the history of American let- t 
ters. 

The author worked with the co- 
operation of the poet's daughter and has 
been allowed to enrich her manuscript 
with many treasured letters, correspond- 
ence with men and women who lived and 
moved in the midst of the largest ac- 
tivities of the hour. The volume is well 
illustrated. It is brought out by Little 
and Brown and sells at $1.50 net. 



SWITZERLAND 

The same enterprising publishing 
house issue a beautifully illustrated 
volume on Switzerland by Oscar Kuhn. 

Every year Switzerland, long called the 
"playground of Europe," is growing 
more and more popular with Americans. 
On the rivers, lakes, and historic scenes 
of that country ; on the summits of 
mountains like the Jungfrau, Monte 
Rosa, and Mont Blanc, now made ac- 
cessible by mountain railroads ; every- 
where, indeed, are to be found tourists 
from the New World by the thousands. 
One American who has found health, 
strength, and recreation among the snow- 
covered Alps during several seasons past 
has written an account of the land for 
the benefit of other visitors. The volume, 
however, is designed also to satisfy the 
desires of the multitude who cannot see 
for themselves the places described. The 
32 full-page photographs have been 
chosen with a special view to giving a 
clear idea of mountain-climbing, travel 
by carriage road, railways, and boats, the 
crossing of glaciers, and other activities 
which are of necessity dealt with. Here 
is a satisfactory, instructive, and enter- 
taining work for all who would escape 
from the ordinary routine to the most 
wonderful scenes in the world. 



LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON 
Under the title of "Louise Chandler 



THE STORY OF WORCESTER 
This is a condensed but easy narrative 
of that interesting city. It has been 



256 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



prepared by Thomas O'Flynn and is 
published by Little, Brown and Com- 
pany. The historian has wisely chosen 
to dwell on the salient features of his 
story and omit the more usual antiquarian 
and geneological data that bulk so largely 
in the usual town history. The result is 
a far more readable volume for the 
library table with, possibly, a little sacri- 
fice of reference value for the library 
shelf. It is abundantly illustrated and 
sells for $1.50. 



planned to be put on public sale, either 
that plan should be changed or portions of 
it put into saleable form and made avail- 
able for general circulation. 



ON LIFE INSURANCE 

In a beautifully printed volume of ad- 
dresses and papers on life insurance, the 
public utterances of John F. Dryden, 
president of the Prudential Life Insur- 
ance Company, are presented to the wider 
audience of the reading public. The first 
five of the ten papers included in the 
volume are on the history and special 
problems of industrial insurance. They 
are ripe with experience and full of in- 
formation on a subject upon which public 
interest is certain to focus with increasing 
sharpness in the next few years. The 
second five of the ten papers on life in- 
surance cover more general problems. 

The book also contains a speech in the 
United States Senate on the American 
Type of Isthmian Canal and an address 
on Abraham Lincoln and Alexander 
Hamilton. 

As a collection of Mr. Dryden's 
speeches it will be a pleasure to his 
friends that they have been collected in 
this form, and if we are to have them in 
no other form they should certainly find a 
place in our public libraries. But we 
suspect that Mr. Dryden has been over- 
modest in the matter. The papers on in- 
dustrial insurance possess a unique value 
and might well be separately published 
as a most informative little volume of 
wide interest and usefulness. 

The speech on the American Type of 
Isthmian Canal, if published separately, 
with illustrations and maps, would 
possess great value as a succinct and lucid 
summary of the question it discusses and 
a history of the preliminary stages of the 
canal enterprise. 

If the volume, as it stands, is not 



A SOLDIER'S RECOLLECTIONS 

In this volume Dr. McKim has set 
down some of his experiences and ob- 
servations during his service in the Army 
of Northern Virginia : first as a private 
soldier in the ranks of "Stonewall" 
Jackson's army; then as a staff-officer 
in the army of Gen. Robert E. Lee; 
and finally as a chaplain in the cavalry 
brigade of Gen. Fitzhugh Lee. 

He describes his book as "the simple 
story of an obscure soldier's life in the 
Army of Northern Virginia." His nar- 
rative begins at the University of Vir- 
ginia at the outbreak of the war, and 
ends with the close of the great drama 
at Appomattox. It might be character- 
ized as a series of pen and ink sketches 
designed to illustrate the life of the Con- 
federate Soldier, on the march, by the 
camp-fire, and on the field of battle. It 
has the personal touch throughout — 
having been prepared by the aid of the 
author's diaries, containing incidents and 
opinions jotted down on the roadside or 
in the company mess, or in the quiescent 
intervals of battle. Though not aspiring 
to be a history of the war, the book 
presents spirited pictures of some of the 
famous Virginia battles — Manassas, 
Winchester, Cross Keys,Chancellorsville, 
Stevenson's Depot, Cedar Creek ; and of 
Stonewall Jackson's wonderful cam- 
paign in the Valley of Virginia in 1862. 
A good deal of space is given to the Get- 
tysburg campaign, and the battle is 
vividly described, with many interesting 
personal incidents. The author's sketch 
of the soldiers' winter quarters brings 
vividly before the reader the high stand- 
ard of intelligence and education often 
found among the rank and file of the 
Confederate Army; and his experience 
on furlough in the winter of 1862 in- 
troduces us to the conditions of life in 
the homes of the gentry of Virginia at 
that period of the war, when the South- 
ern people were as one family. 




On the road to Lovell's Pond, Sanbornville, N. H. 




The Waverley Oaks 




A Rocky Nook 




A Silent Sentinel 




A Leafy Way 



The Turn in the Road 




Mrs. Julia Ward Howe 

Copyright, 1910, by A. K. G. Smith, Newport, R. I. 



New England Magazine 

Vol. XLIII. NOVEMBER— DECEMBER, 1910 Number 3 



The Fisheries Arbitration at the Hague 

By SAMUEL J. ELDER 



THE arguments in the North 
Atlantic Fisheries Arbitration 
between Great Britain and the 
United States were heard in the 
upper chamber of the Hall of the 
Knights at The Hague. 

The Palace of Peace is not completed ; 
in fact is up only to the second story, 
and it may be a couple of years before 
it can be opened for use. The temporary 
quarters of the Permanent Court of 
Arbitration were entirely inadequate to 
accommodate the Tribunal and Counsel 
in this case, and the apartment in the 
Hall of the Knights was placed, by the 
Netherlands' Government, at the dis- 
posal of the parties. 

Visitors to The Hague will remember 
that the Hall of the Knights is one of the 
historic buildings of The Hague, situated 
inside the second archway of the B. 
The upper chamber is reached by three 
spiral staircases in the several towers, 
two of them used by the Tribunal and 
Counsel, and the other by the general 
public which was freely admitted to all 
of the hearings. 

The Arbitration was held pursuant to 
the terms of the Treaty of January 27th, 
1909, which was confirmed by inter- 
change of notes between the Powers on 
the 4th of March of the same year, and 
which was concluded in accordance with 
the provisions of the general Arbitration 
Treaty between the United States and 



Great Britain, of the 4th of April, 1908. 

The Tribunal was composed of Dr. 
Henri Lammasch of Austria, Dr. A F. 
De Savornin Lohman of the Nether- 
lands, Judge George Gray of Delaware, 
Sir Charles Fitzpatrick of Canada and 
Dr. Luis M. Drago of The Netherlands. 

In the selection of the Tribunal it was 
not found necessary to resort -to the 
method prescribed in The Hague Con- 
vention when the litigant parties dis- 
agree, but Mr. Root, then Secretary of 
State of the United States, and Mr. 
Bryce, British Ambassador at Washing- 
ton, agreed upon the constitution of the 
Tribunal. 

All of the proceedings were in English 
and were followed by the three foreign 
members of the Tribunal apparently 
without difficulty, as was evidenced by 
their constant questioning of counsel. 

The arguments were written out by 
the stenographers during the night fol- 
lowing their delivery and were read by 
all the members of the court so that the 
impression of the oral delivery was sup- 
plemented by perusal. 

The hearings lasted ten weeks, begin- 
ning on the sixth day of June and closing 
on the twelfth day of August. The ses- 
sions of the court were from ten to 
twelve and from two to four on Mondays 
and Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays 
of each week. 

"The arguments of counsel covered 



^Editor's note. Important parts of this article appeared in "The Boston Transcript" and 
'Globe" in the form of an interview with Mr. Elder at the time of his return from Europe. 

265 



266 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



between five thousand and six thousand 
typewritten pages. The record in the 
case was upward of five thousand printed 
pages and consisted not of the testimony 
of witnesses, which is with comparative 



half of deliberation, and is a document of 
forty-one printed pages. The award was 
unanimous except upon Question 5, con- 
cerning which Dr. Drago filed a dissent- 
ing opinion substantially in favor of the 




Hon. Samuel J. Elder, New England's distinguished member of 

Counsel at The Hague 



'he American 



ease marshaled and digested, but of 
treaties, diplomatic correspondence, or- 
ders in council, proclamations and legis- 
lative enactments covering a period, from 
first to last, of upward of two hundred 
years. 

The award by the Tribunal was made 
September 7th, after three weeks and a 



contentions of the United States. 

"During the last seventy years the dis- 
cussions between the United States and 
Great Britain have been recurrently 
acute and have brought into play the 
abilities of statesmen of the highest or- 
der in both countries. A list of the 
names of those who have taken part in 



THE FISHERIES ARBITRATION AT THE HAGUE 



267 



these discussions includes names which 
figure most prominently in the annals 
of both countries. It is of interest to 
Massachusetts that its statesmen have 
borne so large a part in this discussion. 
'Taking Boston as a center, we find 
that within a radius of twenty miles have 
lived a very large majority of the men 
whose contributions to the subject mat- 
ter have been under daily and hourly 



the United States, coming both from 
the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, have 
never for a moment thought or spoken 
of these men other than as great Amer- 
icans, and of the fisheries and the con- 
troversy as the property of the entire 
country and part of its history. 

"In order to understand the practical 
importance of the case and the effect of 
the award upon the fishing interests of 




to 



Youthful Newfoundland Fishermen to Be 



consideration during the ten weeks' argu- 
ment. John Adams and John Quincy 
Adams at Quincy, Mr. Webster at 
Marshfield, Mr. Everett at Winchester, 
Mr. Boutwell at Groton, Judge Dwight 
Foster on Beacon Hill, Richard H. Dana 
and Mr. Lowell at Cambridge have 
figured more conspicuously than any 
others, both in the diplomatic discus- 
sions of three-quarters of a century and 
in the discussion before this tribunal. 

"While speaking of this small locality 
from which these men come one cannot 
but advert to the fact that counsel for 



the country, it is necessary to say a word 
of the history of the question. Nearly 
everyone you talk with thinks of the con- 
troversy as relating to the so-called 
'headland theory' or the question of 
'bays.' The dispute is, however, more 
far-reaching than that — that question 
being only one of the seven submitted to 
the tribunal, and in practical effect the 
least important to our fishing interests. 
"At the end of the revolutionary war. 
in settling the terms of peace, John 
Adams, one of the United States com- 
missioners, insisted that the fishing rights 



268 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



of the new country should be recognized 
in their fullest extent. He said he would 
not 'put his hand to any treaty' which 



of the French wars. 

"The result was that the treaty of 1783 
recognized the right of American fisher- 




Robert Lansing, Esq. 
Chas. B. Warren, Esq. 



The American Counsel 
Hon. Elihu Root 
judge George Gray 
Judge James B. Scott 



Hon. Samuel Elder 
Hon, George Turner 



did not guarantee them. He said that 
Xew England had 'spent more in blood 
and treasure than all the rest of the 
British empire' in the securing of those 
rights which had been largely the cause 



men to fish not only on the banks of 
Newfoundland, but gave them the right 
in the waters of his majesty's dominions 
in North America, together with the 
right to dry and cure fish at various 



THE FISHERIES ARBITRATION AT THE HAGUE 



269 



specified points. These rights were as 
freely exercised hy United States fisher- 
men until 1818 as they had been while 
the colonies were a part of the British 
empire. 

"The extent of the industry at that 
time and its enormous value, especially 



were founded on the fisheries of that 

period. 

"After the war of 1812, it was claimed 
by Great Britain that these rights were 
abrogated under the principle of inter- 
national law that all treaty obligations 
terminate with a declaration of war. 




Accepted design for the new Palace of Peace now being erectkd at The Hague 



to New England, can hardly he appre- 
ciated after the lapse of a century. The 
wealth of New England and its ability 
to purchase from abroad depended large- 
ly on the productiveness of the fisheries- 
and the trade in cured fish carried on 
with Spain and the Mediterranean ports. 
If the story could be told, no doubt many 
of the New England fortunes of to-day 



"John Quincy Adams, one of the 
American commissioners at Ghent, on 
the other hand, contended with charac- 
teristic vehemence that the American 
fishing rights, under the treaty of 1783. 
did not rest on obligation or contract, 
but were received as a part of the parti- 
tion of British empire in North America ; 
that they were no more canceled by the 



THE FISHERIES ARBITRATION AT THE HAGUE 



271 



war of 1812 than were the boundaries of 
the United States changed, but that they 
subsisted through any war and could only 
be lost by the voluntary action of the 
government of the United States. The 
result was that the treaty of Ghent was 
signed without any fisheries article, the 
United States claiming and Great Britain 
denying everything. 

'The 'Jaseur incident' shortly fol- 
lowed, in which a British war vessel of 
that name forbade the American fleet to 
fish within sixty miles of the coast of 
Nova Scotia. This act was speedily 
repudiated, but the British government 
asserted that its intention was to prohibit 
United States fishermen from fishing 
anywhere within the coastal waters of 
his majesty's dominions in North Amer- 
ica. 

"Various seizures were made, and for 
two years the situation between the two 
governments was one of increasing irrita- 
tion. John Quincy Adams, then secie- 
tary of state, told the British minister at 
Washington on the street one day that 'he 
believed that they should have to fight 
about it, and that his opinion was that 
they ought to do so'; all of which vas 
solemnly reported to the home govern- 
ment, with the comments by the British 
minister. 

"The result was the treaty concluded 
at London, October 20, 1818, the inter- 
pretation of article I of which was the 
subject of the present arbitration. While 
the fishery article of this treaty is in the 
briefest possible compass, the history of 
the previous one hundred years, as well as 
of the years which have succeeded, were 
distinctly relevant to the determination of 
the meaning of the treaty provisions and 
occasioned the extreme length of the dis- 
cussion. The opening argument for 
Great Britain alone occupied two weeks, 
the opening for the United States the 
same length of time. 

"In article I of the treaty Great Britain 
conceded to the United States for the 
benefit of the inhabitants thereof the 
liberty of taking fish of every kind on 
a portion of the southern coast of New- 
foundland, on the entire western coast, 
on the shores of the Magdalen islands 
and on the coasts, bays, harbors and 



creeks of Labrador to and through the 
straits of Belle Isle, northwardly in- 
definitely along the coast, with the right 
to dry and cure fish on certain defined 
portions of the southern coast of New- 
foundland and on the coast of Labrador. 
"The United States, on the other hand, 
renounced its claim to take, dry or cure 
fish on or within three marine miles of 
the coasts, bays, harbors and creeks of 
all other of his majesty's dominions in 
North America not within the above 
described limits. The United States 
secured, however, for its fishermen the 
privilege to enter such bays and harbors 
for the purposes of shelter, repairs, wood 
and water, but for no other purpose 
whatsoever. 

"Almost immediately a collision took 
place between the United States and 
France with regard to the liberty to take 
fish on the western coast of Newfound- 
land, known as the 'French coast ' A 
French war vessel ordered the American 
fleet out of various bays and threatened 
them with seizure if they continued to 
fish. After prolonged negotiations the 
French dispute was taken up with the 
British government, which was called 
upon to protect the United States in the 
rights granted or to give an equivalent in 
other quarters. 

"The matter was adjusted peaceably 
and no further controversv arose until 
1840. when the 'headland theorv' was 
promulgated and an attempt was made 
soon afterward to exclude American 
vessels from the bay of Fundy. The 
controversy was disposed of ten years 
later by an arbitration concerning- the 
seizure, as a test case, of an American 
vessel more than three miles from the 
shore, but within the waters cf the hav 
of Fundy. 

"The decision was in favor of the 
United States, and an award was given 
for the value of the vessel. The umrire 
was Mr. Joshua Bates of Massachusetts, 
then and for many years residem in 
Great Britain. Shortly afterward Great 
Britain expressed its intention of n 3t in- 
terfering with American vessels in the 
bay of Fundy more than three miles 
from the coast, but reserved its claims 
with reference to all other bavs. 



272 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



"It is not necessary to go into detail 
further except to say that two reciprocity 
treaties have been entered into which 
settled temporarily this and the ( ther 
questions arising under the treaty, name- 
ly, the one in 1854, which terminated in 
1866, and the treaty of Washington of 
1871, which terminated in 1886. 

"A new treaty was negotiated, known 
as the Bayard-Chamberlain treaty in 
1888, which failed of confirmation in 
the United States senate, but a modus 
vivendi had been entered into by which 
the United States vessels upon payh g a 
license fee were allowed certain priv- 
ileges in Canadian waters, including that 
of buying bait, and that arrangement has 
continued, apparently to the satisfaction 
of every one, to the present time A 
similar arrangement existed with New- 
foundland until 1905, when the foreign 
fishing vessels act was passed, terminat- 
ing the license system and throwing 
United States fishermen back upon their 
rights under the treaty of 1818. 

"After prolonged negotiation and a 
modus vivendi from year to year, an or- 
der in council was passed suspending 
the operation of certain sections of the 
foreign fishing vessels act, and the spe- 
cial agreement of 1909 was agreed upon 
under which the present arbitration has 
been held. 

"The questions were formulated tuider 
seven heads, which may be briefly 
recapitulated as follows : 

"Question 1. — Has Great Britain, Can- 
ada or Newfoundland the right to im- 
pose regulations upon American fisher- 
men in treaty waters without the con- 
sent of the United States ? 

"Question 2. — Can noninhabitanta of 
the United States be employed on Amer- 
ican fishing vessels or is such employ- 
ment restricted by the words of the 
treaty to 'inhabitants of the United 
States'? 

"Question 3. — Can the exercise of the 
treaty rights on the treaty coasts be made 
subject to the payment of light, harbor 
or other dues and to entry and report at 
customhouses? 

"Question 4. — Can the exercise of the 
privileges of entering the bays on the 
nontreaty coasts for shelter, repairs, 



wood or water be subjected to the same 

requirements ? 

"Question 5. — From where shall be 
measured the three marine miles of the 
coasts, bays, harbors and creeks within 
which United States fishermen are not at 
liberty to fish? 

"Question 6. — Have the fishermen of 
the United States the right to fish in the 
bays, creeks and harbors on the coast of 
Newfoundland and the Magdalen 
islands? 

"Question 7. — Are fishing vessels en- 
titled to the commercial- privileges ac- 
corded by agreement or otherwise to 
American trading vessels generally? 

"The importance attached to the case 
by Great Britain is shown by the pres- 
ence of the recognized leader of the 
British bar, Sir Robert Finlay; of the 
attorney-general for Great Britain, Sir 
William Robson ; of Sir H, Earle Rich- 
ards, and of four other king's counsel ; 
by the presence of the minister of justice 
of Canada, Mr. Aylesworth ; of Messrs. 
Shepley, Ewart and Tilley of the Cana- 
dian bar, and on behalf of Newfound- 
land, of the premier, Sir Edward Monis ; 
the former attorney-general, Sir James 
Winter, and the present attorney-general 
Hon. Donald Morison. 

"Altogether Great Britain presented 
sixteen counsel of the first eminence. On 
the other hand the state department of 
the United States showed its apprecia- 
tion of the great diplomatic importance 
of the arbitration by securing the pres- 
ence of Senator Root, formerly secretary 
of state of the United States, who, much 
against his will, was persuaded by Presi- 
dent Taft, Secretary Knox and Mr. An- 
derson to take the leading part on behalf 
of the United States ; of Ex-Senator Tur- 
ner of Washington, a member of the 
Alaskan boundary tribunal ; of Chandler 
P. Anderson of New York, Charles B. 
Warren of Detroit, Dr. James Brown 
Scott of the department of state, and 
Robert Lansing of New York, who with 
the writer made seven in all. 

"The disparity in numbers, entailed as 
it did upon the counsel for the United 
States an exceptional amount of work in 
the incessantly changing phases of the 
case. 




A typical Newfoundland fishermen's landing 



274 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



"Under question one, the United States 
advanced as one of its arguments before 
the tribunal that the effect of the treaty 
was" to create an international servitude 
in the treaty waters in favor of the 
United States, and that the sovereignty 
of Great Britain was limited by that ser- 
vitude. Every writer on international 
law, from Grotius down, was cited by one 
side or the other in the course of the 
elaborate discussion of this question. 
Great Britain was keenly alive to the 
question of the limitation of its sovereign 
rights within the territory of one of its 
colonies. 

"This phase of question one was deter- 
mined by the tribunal adversely to the 
contention of the United States; at the 
same time the tribunal finds from the 
terms of the special agreement of 1909, 
and from the position taken bv British 
counsel in the course of the argument, 
that Great Britain is limited to the en- 
actment of regulations that are reason- 
able on grounds of public order and 
morality, necessary for the preservation 
of the fisheries and equitable as between 
American and British fishermen ; that 
neither Great Britain nor Newfoundland 
can be the sole judge of reasonableness ; 
that all future acts or regulations must be 
published in the official gazettes, and if 
the United States within two months 
makes objection to them their reason- 
ableness is to be determined by a specia 1 
commission consisting of one national 
representative of each country and a third 
disinterested member to be agreed upon 
by the two countries, or, in case of dis- 
agreement to be nominated by the queen 
of Holland. 

"The tribunal upon the request of the 
Cnited States, referred the existing laws 
and regulations of Newfoundland to a 
board of experts, whose determination 
shall be reported to the tribunal and be- 
come, if approved by it, binding upon the 
parties. 
More Deftntte Meantnos of "Bays" 

"Question five is decided adver. 1 v to 
the contention of the United States, but 
the tribunal recommends the two powers 
to make definite the meaning of the word 
'bay' by adopting the rule of the North 
sea convention, where any indents which 



are at their mouths ten miles or less in 
width are to be deemed bays, and others 
a part of the high seas. Certain bays 
which deeply indent the coast and are 
land-locked within his majesty's domin- 
ions, such as Chaleurs and Miramichi, 
Placentia, Fortune and Egmont, are ex- 
cepted and declared within certain boun- 
daries to be waters from which American 
fishermen are excluded. 

"The remaining five questions are 
determined in accordance with the con- 
tention of the United States. Although 
these questions did not have equal 
historic or international interest with 
questions one and five they were of the 
highest practical importance. 

"The comprehensive award now made 
determines not only existing questions, 
but provides for the speedy determina- 
tion of questions which may hereafter 
arise. It may well be satisfactory to 
both parties. 

"The United States is secured against 
hastv and possibly inimical laws and 
regulations calculated to hamper the 
exercise of the fishing privilege. Great 
Britain is relieved from the constant 
recurrence of questions between the 
Newfoundland government and United 
States fishermen concerning the valid- 
ity of Newfoundland laws dependent 
upon his majesty's treaty obligations, 
which questions have been most deli- 
cate, in view of the fact that the colon y 
has been granted the right of local self- 
government. 

"Canada and Newfoundland are as- 
sured of the ris"ht to make all reasonable 
and proper regulations for the protection 
of the fisheries and for the maintenance 
of public order on the treatv coasts. anH 
a solid basis is laid for such future ar- 
rangements between the governments as 
may seem of value. 

"Hitherto the prime difficulty of nego- 
tiation has been uncertainty as to the 
extent of American rights under the 
treaty itself. Every negotiation has been 
hampered by the fact that matters con- 
sidered to be concessions by one party 
have been deemed by the other to be 
rights under the treaty, and the ordinary 
T method of 'give and take,' either in con- 
J tracts or treaties, has been inapplicable. 



THE FISHERIES ARBITRATION AT THE HAGUE 



275 



because neither side could positively tell 
what it was giving or what it was taking. 
"It is difficult to estimate, probably 
impossible to overstate, the influence 
which this arbitration will have upon 
the arbitral determination of interna- 
tional questions in future. The fact that 



open for the settlement of their differ- 
ences, and that such suggestion shall be 
regarded only as a friendly act, will gain 
immeasurably in its effect upon the world 
by the peaceful solution of this ancient 
controversy. 

"It is to be noted that the decision i^ 




A Newfoundland fisherman and his pets 



two great nations like Great Britain and 
the United States have been willing to 
submit to this tribunal vexed questions 
of nearly a century's duration, several 
times leading to situations of the greatest 
gravity, questions indeed which involve 
the sovereignty over territory, so jealous- 
ly guarded by every nation, and have 
been willing to abide by the result of the 
arbitration, must profoundly influence 
other nations to adopt a like course. 

"The provision of The Hague conven- 
tion that where disputes arise between 
nations another nation may suggest that 
the permanent court of The Hague is 



unanimous except for Dr. Drago's dis- 
sent on question number five. The prac- 
tical unanimity of the decision, which of 
course includes the agreement of both 
the British and American judges, is one 
of the best evidences of the judicial and 
nonpartisan character of the considera- 
tion and determination of the case. 

"Dr. Drago's dissent on question 5. 
which concerns the historic question of 
headlands, rather emphasizes than de- 
tracts from the above statements. He 
was convinced that the American posi- 
tion, as a matter of principle, was cor- 
rect, and he filed an admirable statement 



276 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



of his views while expressing his regret 
at being unable to concur with his col- 
leagues on this single point." 

His 6'pinion is one of the best state- 
ments that has ever been made of the 
position of the United States on this 
question. 

"Nothing could give greater assurance 
of the feasibility of a permanent court 
between nations to determine interna- 
tional disputes than is given by this 
decision. One of the most serious objec- 
tions in the past to an international 
tribunal has been that decisions have 
been, in many instances, diplomatic com- 
promises rather than judicial determina- 
tions. 

"No one can read the opinion rendered 
by the tribunal and Dr. Drago's dissent- 
ing opinion without feeling that the deci- 
sion upon each point has been based upon 
the most careful examination of the 
bearing of international law upon the 
subject matter, and the opinion itself will 
unquestionably pass into the body of that 
law just as a decision of the house of 
lords or of the supreme court of the 



United States forms part of the body of 
the law of Great Britain or the United 
States. 

"Another cause for congratulation is 
the admirable spirit in which the decision 
was received by the legal representatives 
of both governments. The case itself, 
from first to last, while vigorously and 
powerfully contested, brought forth 
no single moment of altercation or per- 
sonal recrimination or controversy. 

"The cordial acquiescence on all sides 
in the result is in marked contrast to the 
situations existing after the awards of 
the Geneva tribunal, the Halifax com- 
mission and the Alaska boundary tribunal. 

No higher tribute can be paid to the 
judicial character and fairness of the 
award itself and to the cogent and per- 
suasive nature of the reasons stated as 
the foundation of the award. 

"It would be difficult not to pay tribute 
to the learning and industry of the 
tribunal. Each one of the distinguished 
arbitrators has justified his high repute 
in the field of international juris- 
prudence." 



The Christmas Flower 



By ZITELLA COCKE 

A Lily fair, beyond compare 

Bloomed in a manger long ago, — 
But aye, it sweeter smells to-day 

Than all the sweets that gardens grow, 
The Lily pure and undefiled 

On which Time may not lay his blight. 
Fadeless, when Death itself shall die 

And glorious with Eternal Light ! 



One Rose was born without a thorn 

Long years ago across the sea, 
But aye, with thorn that Rose was torn 

And set upon a bitter tree, 
And now it makes the whole earth glad 

With beauty which shall ne'er decay, 
The Rose of Sharon, O, how sweet! 

That bloomed for man on Christinas Day ! 



Daughters of Herod II 



By MARY BOYLE O'REILLY 



THE ROAD THAT HAS NO 
TURNING 

HOW many daughters of Herod 
are serving their king in New 
Hampshire only a quickened in- 
terest in the public welfare can 
determine. The word that goes out from 
churches and neighborhood centers, the 
spirit that is roused by lectures or in- 
vestigations of social workers can only 
give the initiative. When the most 
vibrant voices are silent, and the most 
stinging arraignments are read the real 
reform must germinate and root in the 
homes of the people. But once they 
learn to recognize the danger signals, 
once they appreciate the need of calm 
concerted action for the common good, 
then there will be an end to evils like that 
of the house on the road that has no turn- 
ing. 

***** 

On Saturday, July 16, after a fort- 
night's decoy correspondence with a 
female who has for years advertised her- 
self as a "REFINED LADY, who will 
take infant on day of birth," the writer 
of this report went, by unsuspecting in- 
vitation, to the House of Forgotten Chil- 
dren. It was a perfect summer morning : 
the sun shone; all the world sang; and 
the youthful workers from the Merri- 
mac's mills thronged the trolleys for a 
glad half holiday. It was midday when 
the laughter-filled car stopped a moment 
at the designated street and then sped 
away. In the midst of the summer noon 
an autumn sense of sadness came sud- 
denly. The long and silent street 
stretched its lonely length into the un- 
known. Even those swallows of the city 
pavements, the children, had disappeared. 
On the steps of an empty house a lean, 



f deserted cat cried piteously, and a tangle 
of thorny briars, from which the roses 
had long since fallen, caught at unwary 
feet. Walking on, and on, the highway 
of the world seemed very far away, the 
grim houses turned blind eyes to a 
puzzled stranger. Presently there were 
fewer houses, longer stretches of un- 
fertile waste land, through which the 
street, now narrowed to a dusty wagon- 
path, ran on to the horizon — a desolate 
road without a turning. No wayside 
flowers grew by the foot-path, only bitter 
tansey — the death weed — rising beside 
iridescent pools of fouled water. The 
sun of noon was hidden in a bank of 
threatening cloud, and the muttering 
rumble of a coming storm growled 
nearer. A snake slithered noiselessly 
through the copper-colored dust, and 
somewhere in the stunted copse a lone 
bird cried disconsolately for its mate. 

Then through the reaching silence 
sounded the swift patter of heavy rain, 
and the rush to find shelter anywhere 
brought the writer, all unprepared, to the 
door toward which the lonely road had 
tended, — the mean and evil-looking 
House of Unwanted Children. 

It stands alone, at the end of the 
Road-That-Has-No-Turning, aloof from 
its neighbors, fast shuttered against the 
world, and just beyond it, not thirty feet 
away, a desolate ravine drops suddenly a 
hundred feet to a turgid little river and 
its water-logged valley, suggestive as the 
marshes of the Styx. 

What of the bitterness of that loveless 
road for the frightened girl in her time 
of black disgrace ; rigid with shame, 
crazed with misery; coming with drag- 
ging feet unguided, unguarded, sick and 
despairing to seek counsel of a vampire? 



277 



278 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



The investigator had come "to place a 
baby," about whom — when the fifty dol- 
lars was paid "no record would be made, 
no questions asked" 

"She is a very troublesome baby; wor- 
rying and fretful," complained the in- 
vestigator. The listening woman swayed 
in her chair. "Never fear," she com- 
forted. "Never fear. My babies sleep 
all day. They thrive better so than if 
they were fussing." 

"What do you give them?" questioned 
the investigator unguardedly curious, 
Stories of soothing syrups heavy with 
narcotics, of "accidents" with laudanum, 
of the baby-farmers' notoriously preva- 
lent custom of drugging children, flooded 
her mind. 

But the Nurse of Unrecorded Infants 
was placidly unsuspecting. "I get my 
paregoric at the grocer's," she wheezed, 
"it costs less there. Some say it is not 
so strong, but you can easy add a little 
in the spoon. Now for a whining child, 
— the words fell with horrid unction, — 
"I always advise a sip of 'punch.' Put 
one lump of sugar in a cup,. . . .to it add 
five or six drops of laudanum, according 
to age,, .then a teaspoon of boiling water. 
That makes quick work of the most wor- 
risome. I have never known it to fail." 

AND STILL, IN THE FACE OF 
THAT DICTUM, THERE IS NO 
NEW HAMPSHIRE LAW TO 
LICENSE AND INSPECT BOARD- 
ING HOUSES FOR BABIES! 

"May I send the baby's crib and little 
chair?" 

"Of course, of course," rumbled the 
heavy voice ; "my boarders mostly do 
bring their cribs, also their coats, and 
carriages, and whatever — " 

From the inner room could be heard 
the vague sound as of a small child 
moving about. Slowly, very slowly, the 
door swung back a foot and a little half- 
clenched hand, all dirty on the palm, 
reached into the unseen. The woman's 
panther glance saw it too, and with a 
wordless shout she thrust it back and 
closed the door. Immediately was the 
sound of feeble wailing, the wailing of a 
lonely baby who had wanted to make 
friends. 

"May I see your little ones?" asked the 



investigator. 

"No, it ain't allowed," said the Nurse 
of Deserted Children. "It ain't never 
allowed. No one never sees them from 
the time I take full control till I put them 
in a good home; " and saying it she 
smiled ! 

"Is that your last word?" demanded 
the investigator. "I advise you to recon- 
sider." The Nurse of Superfluous Chil- 
dren rose, calmly insolent. 

"Ho ! Ho ! young woman, don't try no 
airs on me ! I know what you are ! Yes 
and I can tell, too ! Let me go back to 
Lowell looking for money you owe me 
for hiding your secret ! What would 
you do then ?" 

So accustomed was she to dealing with 
lonely, frightened girls that a warning 
doubt never crossed her mind. Fists on 
hips she tried to penetrate the incognito 
of the stranger's chiffon veil. 

"Please may I see the children?" 
repeated the investigator. 

"You can get out!" stormed the baby 
farmer, "you with your fine clothes, and 
your lady's airs ! But you'll come back 
soon enough, — without fear!" 

Truer word was never spoken : fast 
as feet could carry her the investigator 
sought the Mayor at City Hall ; and his 
Honor summoned the City Marshal. No 
warrant for arrest was wanted, but 
rather the right of entry, the opportunity 
to inspect those hidden rooms — the 
nursery of Forgotten Babies. 

"Send Inspector Field to me —and 
my carriage," ordered City Marshal 
Wheeler; then — "Madam, both officer 
and team are at your service. Inspector 
Field knows the law. We will go to the 
limit in this matter." Another minute, 
and the word of Herodias was true; for 
the investigator was going back to the 
House of Unwanted Babies — "going 
back, soon enough, — without fear !" 



IN THE HOUSE OF UNWANTED 
BABIES 

NEITHER butcher, nor baker, ice- 
man, nor messenger is ever 
allowed — say the neighbors — to 
set foot in the house of un- 
known infants, but Inspector Edward 



DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 



279 



Field approacned calmly. "Hello! What's 
this? The undertaker again? Who sent 
for you?" The two men consulted in low 

tones. "Wait outside," concluded the 
Inspector. "J will call you in presently. 
The worse things are now, the better 
they will be once we yet some Children's 
Laws." Then the door opened slowly, 
and the tainted air puffed out. 

Both visitors entered the darkened 
stuffy room half Idled by a six-foot table. 
"I am sent by the Marshal," announced 
the Inspector in his deliberate way, "to 
ask you a few questions. You told me 
you came from — ?" 

"Yes, sir, Street, — ." Then — 

with an ingratiating smirk, "be sure 
you write it correct." The big, loosely- 
jointed woman lolled carelessly in the 
low chair, two great freckled hands on 
her wide-spread knees. The umber of 
long, unclean neck and arms foreboded 
ill for the cleanliness of helpless babies. 
A dreadful leer lay in the snakish green 
eyes, a tell-tale smile on the flaccid mouth, 
and between the two, accenting the sig- 
nificance of each, was that practically in- 
fallible stigmata of sensuality and cun- 
ning — a straight nose set crookedly on the 
face.* A long life of dreary viciousness 
and secret tippling showed in the mottled 
face oozing with evil. The wise old 
fifteenth century knew such women to its 
sorrow : 

"Therefore be ye ware," says a quaint 
volume in the Bodleian, "be ye ware 
those giant women, gross in frame, 
lecherous of manner and glance, lying of 
tongue and slanderous, with coarse faded 
hair and a straight nose set crookedly on 
a lustful face who fawn with bad grace 
the while they lay plans for a man's dis- 
truction, scheming, may-hap through 
years. For these be Women Poisoners, 
crafty, subtle, pitiless; wise as serpents, 
implacable as death." 

"Your business is boarding homeless 
babies ? How many have you now ?" 

"Six at present. You see this hot 
weather makes it better for them to be 
out of the city, and in the country air." 
Smug, oily, flattering, the woman rushed 



into a monologue of greasy cant an '' 
moral platitudes. At times she was al- 
most edifying. 

"Exactly," interrupted the Inspector. 
"Have any happened to die lately?" 

"Well, yes. One died Monday, and 
one today. But they were weak little 
things. \o one could — " 

"'I hat is two this week, then ':" prodded 
the Inspector. "Before you came here 
you lived in — ?" the deep voice was calm 
as ever. 

"Oh, yes, we lived at 609 street, 

two houses from the park." 

The Inspector pocketed his note-book 
quietly; reached for his hat quietly; and 
quietly rose from his chair. 

"'I here is no such number as 609 

street," he commented slowly; "neither 
is there any such park. Xow, if you 
please, we will go upstairs." As he 
reached back to a hip pocket the silvery 
police badge showed for the first time. 

For a moment it seemed as if the 
cowering creature would attempt resist- 
ance as she struggled to rise. The blood 
rushed into her lank mottled face, making 
it turgid and vulturous, while the lined 
cheeks lengthened downward with fear. 
The contorted lips moved, but no voice 
came out. 

"I will go first, please," said the In- 
spector to the investigator, mounting the 
stairs. Above, under the sharply sloping 
roof, four rooms opened from the hallway, 
bare, uncarpeted, all but empty of fur- 
niture. In the first stood one broken 
chair and a dirty iron bed, without sheets, 
and littered with gray blankets and 
fouled comforters. 

"This is where the older children 
sleep," announced the woman. 

"Boarders?" 

"Yes." 

A similar bed half filled the second 
room, with beside it two dirty wooden 
cribs set end to end. in which five tiny 
babes lay crosswise. 

A reeking foulness, the very essence 
of filth, heralded death in a round-about 
way. death with less risk of detection and 
punishment. A sheet of green netting 



*Ottolenghi (Italian authority) La Scheletro e la forma del naso net criminali. Haz-clock 
Ellis, The Criminal London, ed. 1890, p. 71. The Criminal Nose. 



280 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



intended for the babies' protection had 
been dragged off. The wizened little 
bodies were covered with clothing so 
soiled that it was ochre yellow. The 
thighs of two were almost raw from 
neglect and dampness. One infant's ear 
and cheek were involved in a hideous 
sore ; its tiny hands, tremulous with pain, 
waved feebly; another wailed in a high 
strained key, its gray leathery skin prov- 
ing the wasting disease from which it 
suffered, its maturated eyes closed 
against the flies. But the remaining three 
lay in a sodden sleep, with eyes half open, 
beside them a bottle of Mrs. Winslow's 
syrup of morphine. 

Near the cribs, souring as it absorbed 
the odors and septic germs, was a yellow 
bowl full of milk. 

"Show me the next room," ordered the 
Inspector sternly. 

It stood across the hallway, airy and 
empty, but for a large new porcelain bath 
tub set squarely in the middle of the 
floor. It was perhaps the last thing one 
would have expected to find in that 
squalid house. Silently the Inspector 
tried the fourth door, only to find it 
locked. 

"Bring me the key," he ordered 
grimly. The silent woman produced it. 

A room like all the others, bare, prac- 
tically empty, with a pent-house roof. 
Only a dirty bed with naissant clothing, 
and in its midst alone, unloved, neglected, 
— a tiny dead baby ! The livid little body 
was piteous in its utter defencelessness. 

Let the baby-farmer who runs that 
house put Inspector Edward Field on the 
witness stand and listen while he testifies 
to that discovery. "My God ! — " he said 
softly, "my God! and I have six little 
ones of my own !" From the window he 
silently signalled the waiting undertaker 
who came reluctantly, a young, frank- 
looking man. 

"If everything is not all right here I 
don't want this case," he announced. 
"These people have been telephoning me 
of late to come at night; but I refuse to 
do business that way." 

"For pity's sake, Rabeauchad, come 
when they call. It will insure the babies 
Ghristian burial. Otherwise — " the eyes 
of both men searched the waste land all 



about. "Make a note of the things you 
observe. I go now to make a report." 



THE HOUSE BY THE RIVER 

IN the junction District of Nashua, 
cut off from the city proper by a 
waste of railway yards, hidden 
from casual observation by tower- 
ing factories whose day-long industry 
keeps the air resonant, is a weather-worn 
two-story tenement undistinguished 
from like buildings save by its air of 
aloofness and the ill-reports of the few, 
but troubled neighbors. 

A stone's throw beyond this house, 
with little save waste land between, the 
deep strong current of the Nashua-Mer-- 
rimac rivers — at this point of confluence 
constantly at flood — sweeps down to the 
distant dams at Lowell. The house by 
the river is curtained against the world, 
the lower sashes of its back windows 
boarded across inside the glass — to 
prevent even a casual glance. 

Rumor insists that early and late, more 
often late than early, a pitiful procession 
of unknown girls creeps along the broken 
asphalt sidewalks and disappears into the 
house whose attic story is "a hospital." 
No one is allowed to see these strangers, 
extraordinary care is taken that they 
remain unknown. Even to each other 
the patients in this queer hospital are 
known only by their first names. 

Before the investigator ever made 
plans for the Nashua Baby-Farms In- 
vestigation she knew from letters on file 
in more than one Charity Bureau in Bos- 
ton of the shrewd individual who posed 
as a philanthropist in that blinded house 
by the river. This icy-hearted woman 
plays a double game with doubly helpless 
girls ; and it is quite possible that her 
notable gift for talking plausible plati- 
tudes has aided her to victimize also 
those child-loving women who spend 
their leisure stitching baby clothes for 
unwelcome little waifs. To hear her tell 

it, Mrs. S "is doing a loving 

woman's work for unloved women". . . . 
"caring for little cherubs until it shall 
please God to call them to Himself." 
Her glib speech, however, has not yet 



DAUGHTERS OF IIKKOI) 



281 



led her to disclose much of her own 
past. Silently, as the angels are said to 

come, Mrs. M S descended upon 

Nashua in the year following the dress- 
suit-case mystery. Even at that time her 
idea of a suitahle home seemed extraor- 
dinary for, with a city full of inexpen- 
sive rents to choose from, she elected to 
live in the relatively remote, inaccessible, 
and sordid neighborhood close to the 
unlit river way, "only three minutes walk 
from the trains." 

Her own letters, written — curiously 
enough with fairly reckless freedom — 
best tell her story. In fairness to her 
shrewdness it should be said that she was 
not aware that "Z, 181, News Office," 
"H, 172, Bulletin Office," "M. O. Reilly, 
Boston," etc., were all one person. 

A constant advertiser in several leading 
papers, presumably receiving mail from 
all over New England, cannot fairly be 
expected to carry mere suggestions of 
identity in her mind. When the leisure 

comes in which Mrs. M S may 

think some long, long thoughts she may 
realize the disadvantage of a too ready 
pen. 

The first letter of the series was ad- 
dressed to an actually desperate girl who 
surrendered it only after repeated 
requests. All the others were the prop- 
erty of this investigator, and are now in 
the possession of the Attorney-General 
for New Hampshire. 

Nashua, N. H. 
June 8, 1910. 
Dear Madam, 

The terms for finding homes for 
Infants is $50.00 that covers all expenses 
no matter how long I have to keep the 
little one. You can pay cash or part 
down and the balance in weekly pay- 
ments. 

Respectfully, 

MRS. M. S 

This scandalous demand for life- 
money for disposing of a living gurgling 
baby spurred the investigator to in- 
dependent correspondence. The Taker 
of Babies in the house by the river was 
nothing loath. 

Apparently she had a lessening respect 



for this writer's intelligence, as her letters 

have a frankly unguarded tone. 

Nashua, \. II. 
lulv 10, 1910. 
M. O. Reilly 

Dear friend 
I will take your baby and no questions 
asked it will always be well cared for and 
if you wish you can have a picture of it 
when it is older. 1 will come and get it 
if you will give $50.00 down, or if you 
bring it to me (from Boston, of course, 
Ed.) I will take it for $45. Please answer 
promptly. 

MRS. M. S 

C St., Nashua. 

Telephone. . . .Nashua. 
T live an hour's ride from Boston 
North Station and get off at Union 
Station Nashua it is only three minutes 
walk to the house fare 95 cents. 

MRS. M. S 

July 14, 1910 
Dear friend 

Your letter just receved the lowest I 

can take child is $50.00 

/ do not mind it being weak. You 
would never have to take it back. The 
fare here is 95c fr Boston and it takes 1 
hour. I will enclose time table and paper 
for you to sign. Now I can take it any 
time you want to come with it and no 
questions asked. Fill out the paper where 
the crosses are and sign before two wit- 
nesses where the crosses are at the foot. 
Respectfullv, 

M. S 

The paper to be signed was the regular 
form of petition for adoption to the 
Honorable Judge of Probate for the 
County of Hillsborough, N. H., bearing 
already Mrs. S 's unwitnessed sig- 
nature. Later investigation proved that 

Mrs. S had a solid looking roll of 

such forms in the upper right hand 
drawer of her desk ; but Hon. E. E. 
Parker, Judge of Probate for Hills- 
borough County, says that these blank- 
petitions are public property, distributed 
free to all applicants, so that there is no 
way of ascertaining just how many any 
one person may accummulate. Register 
E. J. Copp, of the Hillsborough County 
Probate Office, reports, however, that 
only half a dozen petitions for adoption 



282 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



have been filed with him, in 1910, by at' 
the baby-fanners under investigation put 
together ; so that the woman who claims 
to have placed "dozens of babies in a 
good home" must presently explain how- 
she did so without breaking the law that 
demands formal report of such transfer 
within five davs. 

On July 18,' 1910, Mrs. M S , 

being in a literary mood, composed the 
following letter, which — of ail those 
received — has the keenest interest for the 
postal authorities, who are notoriously 
unappreciative of imagination. It is, 
relatively, a harmless composition, prob- 
ably ran quite trippingly from the pen ; — - 
and yet, by the irony of fate, it not only 
failed to convince the woman to whom it 
was addressed but has since proved 
deeply interesting to certain grim gov- 
ernment officials. 

Nashua, N. H. 
July 18, 1910. 
Dear friend 

Your letter in regards to Baby received 
and I am pleased to answer your letter 
and Questions. 

Now I am a nurse and I want the Baby 

for a Wealthy family Now it is an 

exceptionally good home and the little 
one that gets it will indeed be a Lucky 
baby. They will have a trained nurse for 
it. Now about the clothes they do not 
mind if it has any or not as they are well 
able to provide it with everything. Of 
course if you have things it shows the 
mothers Love and thought for the little 
one. I will have to take the child to them 
myself in Washington, D. C. That will 
cost you $50. Please let me hear soon I 
am home most of the time r\t least will 
waite home untill I hear f r< r l you. 
Respectfully, 

MRS. M. S . 

Tt is one of the troublesome facts in a 
business that depends on secrecy for suc- 
cess that the Postmaster of Nashua is 
nuite likely to insist on knowing the name 
and address of those foster parents in 
Washington, D. C, to whom Mrs. 

M S — planned to deliver that 

"lucky baby!" 

***** 



The subtle suggestion of that letter car- 
ried the investigator to Nashua, prepared 
to study, so far as circumstances would 
permit, the house that was not only a 
boarding place for infants but an un- 
licensed lying-in-hospital. Judging from 
appearances, a worse place for a hospital 
could hardly have been chosen ; a house 
on the river flats, surrounded by the hum 
of machinery and the clangor of shifting 
trains ; where every cooling wind must 
come laden with clouds of smoke and 
dust. The House by the River stands close 
to the asphalt pavement, one story high 
and a French roof. All the East side is 
cut off from ventilating drafts by a 
double tenement and a towering factory ; 
the back gable extends out and out on the 
nairow lot in a diminishing range of 
sheds and cubby holes. Festoons of 
clothes lines on pulleys, relieving the 
restricted yard room, give quite a citified 
tenement aspect to the place. 

Mrs. M S , dressed as a grad- 
uate nurse, parried plausible inquiries 
with counter questions, her narrow- 
slitted insincere eyes fraught with sus- 
picion, her closely-shut, strongly-com- 
pressed lips eloquent of avarice. "Was 
the questioner the patient? No? Then 
she could say nothing binding until she 

saw the patient But her terms 

were unalterable. . . .The visitor's friend 
could come whenever she liked and board 
for $6 a week. At that price she would, 
of course, expect to make herself useful 
in the hospital. The actual confinement 
would cost $30. To take the baby and 
put it in a good home, no questions 
asked, would cost $50 more. The mother 
< ould pay cash, or not less than $35 and 
>ign a paper to pay the rest in weekly 

instalments But if all the money was 

paid at once no record would be made, 
and absolute disposal (whatever that 
phrase means to Mrs. S ) was guar- 
anteed .... Also, the infant must have 
three sets of baby clothes which the hos- 
pital would provide, at seven dollars a 
set, total $21, paid for at once." 

Pausing in her crisp demand for rela- 
tively large sums of money Mrs. S 

displayed these baby-sets, each made up 
of half a dozen articles of clothing of 
cross-bar muslin and slazy flannelette, 



DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 283 



c 

J**u -L^-^t^UL T^u^OiS *£aW. Zr^wCc 

y «s -Let- jl^u**^ <X^^_ J*£&4l*> 



284 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



cheap, unattractive and crudely put 
together. The actual value of each "set" 
was well under $2.00. Selling them at 
$7.00 a set, a moderately active woman 
with a sewing machine could earn clear 
. about one hundred dollars a day. The 
woman had, however, for special pur- 
chase, a few caps and coats and booties, 
not new, but really good — even dainty — 
which she was willing to sell at a price. 
A glance sufficed to indicate their origin : 
They were obviously outgrown clothing 
given by child-loving mothers whose own 
youngsters were thriving, or — consider 
the eerie tragedy of it — the one time 
property of little dead children who had 
no more need for them ! Failing to find 
an immediate purchaser the Receiver of 
Abandoned Babies, whose peaked cap 
bore the black ribbon of a head nurse, 
swept the poor little relics into a big box. 

"I do all the nursing myself," said this 
tradeswoman in tiny lives, "and keep 
only one servant to cook. Your friend 
must let me know at once. You can tell 
her that my terms are unalterable. It 
does not concern me where the money 
comes from .... Such girls must expect 
to pay. . . .1 always have from six to ten 
patients. . . .At least half or them leave 
their babies with me to place in a good 
home." Cruel indifference gave the 
words a cutting edge ; pitiless avarice 
stiffened the thin lips. The final state- 
ments seemed incredible until partially 
substantiated by the neighbors. A mind 
given to detail made a rapid calculation. 
.../'Six patients ahvays" aggregate 
150 (\. e. patients) a year, and— at the 
minimum, $30— a total of $4,500. 
Twenty-one dollars worth of clothing for 
each wee waif equals $1,575. Add $50 
apiece for placing "one half the babies in 
a good home" and the result is another 
$4,000. Ten thousand dollars is not a 
bad return from an attic hospital, assum- 
ing — remember that it is only an assump- 
tion — that Mrs. M S— — , the self- 
confessed manager of a devilish traffic, — 
told the truth! 

Sometimes the truth is spoken by un- 
expected lips, as witness the dictum of 
Mrs. M G E , who her- 
self does a brisk business in birth- 
doomed babies, describing the rival es- 



tablishment at C Street. "Go there!' 

snorted Mrs. M G E , 

her voice vibrating with rancor, "I'm 
sure no friend of yours would go 
there if they understood! Why! it's a 
low place in a tenement near the car 
yards ! No place, at all, for a lady in 
trouble ! Most unhealthy, / say, for a 
baby !" This from the Nurse of Un- 
wanted Children ! 

The vital statistics of the City of 

Nashua seem to prove that Mrs. M 

G E is right. From the official 

statement of the Nashua Board of 
Health it appears that of all the infants 
born in the house by the river in the 
year 1909, sixty-five per cent of the 
miserable little victims promptly died 
there also. Of what? God only knows. 
Insufficient clothing perhaps ; carefully 
managed starvation ; a neglected ailment ; 
possibly poisoned with adult food. All 
the world over the professional baby- 
killer knows that the money paid for 
being relieved of an undesired child is 
earned when that child is dead ; and a 
cautious smile gives silent assent that 
death will come with reasonable slow- 
ness. The children boarded out in that 
house of horror, where a daughter of 
Herod wore the uniform of a head-nurse, 
children whose burial certificates give 
their birth places as Boston, Laconia and 
Medfield, lived — on an average — to be 
two months old ; but the fated children 
who first saw the light there died — in all 
but one instance — in their third, or 
fourth week. In other words a rigid in- 
vestigation would probably prove that the 
strongest baby would surrender in the 
struggle for life under the cautious sys- 
tem advocated. One baby patriarch 
seems to prove the rule for he actually 
lingered until he was four months old. 
But the neighbors explain this surprising 
fact by saying that his tender-hearted 
mother lingered also — as a servant in the 
attic hospital — shrinking from the final 
parting with her little son. The blood 
crawls as one considers the hooeless 
struggle to live made against conditions 
that prove exposure and d oe >ertion mer- 
ciful by contrast; when ignorance or 
neglect, or downright deviltry, had full 
play, and killed as surely — if less swiftly 



DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 



285 




Frank Sherwin Streeter 



— than poison or cold steel ; with the 
added advantage that the proof was 
generally wanting. 

This startling mortality in the house by 
the river first received public recognition 
when the Trustees of Woodlawn Ceme- 
tery (Hon. Albert Shedd, President), 
discovered that the bodies of unclaimed 
infants "sometimes one a week for 
a month" were brought by one under- 
taker from one house of horror, for 
burial by public charity in their Stran- 
ger's Lot. Several of these abandoned 
babies did not have their parents' names 
even on their burial permits. In the 



opinion of the Cemetery Trustees "some- 
thing was wrong," and in October, 1909, 
Superintendent Swan, of Woodlawn 
Cemetery, was ordered "not to permit 
such interments in the future." But no 
definite effort to 



lying cause 



investigate the . under- 



not being a 



was made ! The 

medical man. could not — oi 
course — rigidly scrutinize the death cer- 
tificates. The undertaker, excluded from 
Woodlawn Cemetery when he came with 
pauper dead babies became a patron of 
another cemetery, and has — presum- 
ably — transferred the burials from the 
Babies' Death Trap. The study of 



286 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



these pitiable death certificates, on which 
the age is almost invariably set down 
in weeks — not months, throws a ghastly 
side-light on the lucrative business in 
baby lives. For the records of the 
City Register go to prove that the House 
by the River is only one of three estab- 
lishments carried on under the direction 
of Mrs. M S . Hesitating neigh- 
bors whisper strange stories of the 
woman's two carriages, and her night 
drives — across the river — carrying 
strangely silent foundlings. The lonely 
farm to which she went, openly acknowl- 
edged as an annex of the C Street 

establishment, has been for some time 
conducted by a middle-aged, gaunt and 
truculent person. "When I thinks of 
all the charitable ladies that is willing 
to take on Nobody's Children just to 
cherish and love ;" whined this adept at 
deception. 

"I would like," commented the in- 
vestigator, without thinking, "to be at the 
hanging of a few of those charitable 
ladies." 

The assistant of the Dealer in Babies 
faced about red with wrath. "And I," 
she answered, "have no use for busy 
bodies, no better than them they talks 
about, coming up to New Hampshire to 
spit out them Massachusetts (baby- 
farm ) laws. Not that we'll pay no atten- 
tion to them! Indeed no!" 

Perhaps she meant what she said — for 
the moment. The significant fact re- 
mains that, within a week of that visit of 
inspection, those two readers in a 
dreadful traffic, as if fearful of exposure, 
suddenly abandoned the lonely farm, and 
the House by the River, with its awful 
record and its evil memories, and — join- 
ing forces — set up a new establishment in 
a homestead across the city, not nearly 
so accessible to the trains, but 'within 
three minutes walk of the lonely Lake. 
The surroundings are markedly better, 
but the desperate fact remains: they are 
under much heavier expenses and they 
probably expect to make more money. 

Mr,. M S still "does all the 

nursing herself, keeping a servant to 
cook/ 1 Her terms are still "unalterable." 



. . . ."It does not concern (her J where the 
money comes from. . . .Such girls must 
expect to pay" — assuming that the 
quickened public opinion of Nashua will 
continue to tolerate such transactions ! 
Meantime the daughter of Herod whose 
record out-Herod ; s the King, admits 
calmly, with untroubled eyes, that "there 
has been some difficulty with those 
stupid cemetery people — that quite a few 
babies have died, of course ; but what 
does that tiresome Mayor Shedd ex- 
pect?" 

That four baby-farms should flourish 
— together with their annexes, in a little 
city of 25,000 people, does not, naturally, 
strike her as a terrible evil. "But," she 
adds calmly, her cold tones almost com- 
placent, "you may search the city records 
and you will find that no girl ever died 
in my house." Horror on horror, to 
wilfully play with such statements. No 
girl has been known to die in that House 
by the River, but the neighbors know, 
and the police more than suspect, that 
desperately sick girls have been bundled 
into a carriage at night and driven to an 
Annex about a mile away, where — in a 
house of mystery the home of an unrecog- 
nized woman and an unclaimed doctor — 
they may recover if they can. Out of the 
mist of memory flashed a paragraph of 
the Susan Geary trial: "Dr." Hunt, the 
notorious malpractitioner, is being ac- 
cused. "He said," testified the witness, 
"he said that he had an undertaker who 
did not care ; and a doctor who was not 
afraid ; and if they failed him he had 
some dress suit cases and it zvas only a 
short walk to the Delaware River!" 

Fronting that terrible reality the root- 
truth grips harder : that crime in- 
creases as the chances of detection dir 1- 
inish. When unnatural parents, mid" 
desperate by fear, are willing to consider 
that the market price for securing relief 
from an unwanted baby is $50, and that 
sixty-five per cent of all such miserable 
mites will assuredly die in some House 
by the River within the month of their 
surrender, it grows obvious that little 
children faced less cruel danger in the 
days of Herod, the King. 



DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 



287 



THE HOUSE IN THE QUIET 
STREET 

BUT for the presumably envious 
slur of a jealous rival the in- 
vestigator — searching for baby- 
farmers who engaged to place 
unrecorded infants "in a good home" — 
might never have learned of the House 
in the Quiet Street ; where the barter in 
babies was only a side issue to the real 
business carried on. So guardedly was 
this dangerous trade conducted, so long 
had the woman in charge sailed close on 
the wind of danger, that perhaps not 
once in a hundred times did she run any 
real risk of detection. 

When the story of that house of my 
story is told in its entirety, as told it may 
be, some day, in the New Hampshire 
criminal courts, nothing will seem more 
inexplicable to the writer of this report 
than the chance that carried her to Mrs. 

W F of V Street. This 

woman first appeared in Nashua early in 
1906, while New England was still ring- 
ing with the horror of the dress-suit case 

mystery. She came to the V Street 

house as nurse for an invalid woman 
with whose aging husband she remained 

after her patient's death. 

* * * * * 

The House in the Quiet Street looked 
blankly commonplace when the in- 
vestigator rang and made inquiry. The 
young girl who opened the door w r as 
baldly non-committal. 

"Is Mrs. F a nurse?" urged the 

visitor. Instantly the door swung back. 
"Come right in, dearie," said the hard 
young voice, "sit down and I will call 
her," 

An unpleasant hospital smell, penetrat- 
ing, suggestive, filled the hall, flowing 
like fluid down the stairway. After a 
brief delay the investigator turned to 
look, only to discover standing in the 
doorway, watchful, silent, a tall slight 
woman wearing what seemed to be a 
nurse's dress. Instantly she came for- 
ward her face masked by a rigid pro- 
fessional smile : 

"What can I do for you, dearie?" 

"For me, nothing," said the inves- 
tigator, "I come to speak for a friend — 



to make some necessary arrangements 
for hoarding a little child about Christ- 
mas time." 

"Will you put up your veil, dearie? I 
like to see my friends' fa< e ." 



"No. My friend wishes me 



to make 
want to 

several 



some inquiries. She may even 
hoard in Nashua herself for 

months." 

"Dearie," interrupted the other 

woman, "that would be a very stupid 
plan. What she wants to do is to come 
to me at once, at once, you understand." 

"Hut why?" asked the investigator. 
The woman in uniform laughed softly, a 
quiet cynical laugh. "Why?" she echoed, 
"must / really tell you, dearie?" and then 
— quite calmly, with the ease of long 
repetition — she told. 

"Think, dearie," urged the evil voice, 
"remember I am your friend. Just one 
hundred dollars. ... No one will ever 
know!.... Now sit quiet and think it 
over, while I talk to you." The sharp 
metallic voice sank to a monotone; the 
woman leaning back easily, talked plans 
and care and safety. And then the in- 
vestigator's mind was again registering 
thoughts. This woman's dress was 
merely a crude copy of a trained nurse's 
uniform. Level as her voice was, steady 
as her mien she was yet thrilling to the 
stress of emotions stirred by the thoughts 
behind her speech. At some time in her 
life, perhaps not long since, she had lived 
for weeks — even for months — in the 
strain of terrible danger ; and the 
memory of that escape was still ex- 
quisite. Calm as her face was the rigid 
hands on her knee betrayed her. Clearly, 
easily, as one sees with the eyes of the 
mind, the investigator — accustomed to 
studying female offenders — recognized 
the traits natural to a criminal woman. 

If your friend is determined not to 
come at once," the pitiless woman" was 
saying, "if she insists on coming here to 
board until Christmas. . . .1 make a busi- 
ness of taking the baby. No record will 
ever be made — no questions asked. Xo 
one will ever see the child from the time 
I take it till I place it in a good home." 
And saying it — woman though she be — 
she smiled ! "The price is $70, paid 
down at once. Formerly I charged 



288 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



$100, but so many girls come to me I 
felt that in Christian charity I must 
reduce the rate to $70. But I would not 
come down to $69. I would not consider 
it right.'' 

"What — what do you do with the 
baby ?" asked the investigator. 

Mrs. F drew herself up with an 

air. "In my business," she said, "I have, 
of course to use an automobile so I can 
go far and wide in a big lonely state like 
New Hampshire. But I am ready to 
take oath that no one could ever criticize 
the homes in which I put every infant I 
take. They go to the very best home to' 
which a baby could go," and saying it- 
she smiled. 

Five minutes may seem a long time. 
***** 

Home and quiet thought presented the 
problem in clearer light. This investiga- 
tion, begun for the protection of helpless 
infants, and as a plea for more stringent 
child-saving legislation in New Hamp- 
shire, had dug to unlooked for depths. 

Since the days of Eve there is no 
divorcing mother and child. Not only 
must the boarding places for children be 
licensed in New Hampshire, but the in- 
coming Legislature must be asked to con- 
sider the licensing of lying-in-hospitals. 
Since fate presented such a woman as 
Mrs. W F as part of the prob- 
lem it was necessary to help her to com- 
mit herself for the benefit of the state 
detectives who must follow. On the 
evening of July 16, five hours after the 

interview, the "friend" of Mrs. F 's 

caller wrote to question the surprisingly 
large prices quoted by her "messenger." 

Four days later, on July 20, Mrs. 

F wrote this: "Mamie McGolderick 

of Charlestown," verifying these figures: 
"One hundred dollars for immediate 
treatment, $50 for future care, $70 for 
placing the child in a good home." To 
make sure that the woman was writing 
her own letters another inquiry was sent 
her by registered mail (July 28) for 
which, on request, the government 
returns a receipt signed by the receiver. 
This card came back bearing the familiar 

signature. Two days later Mrs. F 

wrote again urging "immediate action." 
These letters, taken with the first inter- 



yiew, furnished strong moral but not ab- 
solute legal proof. It was necessary to 
snare a very shrewd woman in her 
speech. On August 5, at three o'clock, 
"Mamie McGolderick, of Charlestown," 

telephoned Mrs. W F of 

Nashua. "Mamie McGolderick," appar- 
ently anxious and suspicious, forced the 
unseen woman in New Hampshire to 
identify herself by statements of in- 
formation known only to Mrs. W 

F of Nashua. And then, reckless of 

all danger of detection, the two repeated 

the conversation of July 16; Mrs. F 

again advising, urging, laughing at the 
scruples and the fears of a girl she had 
— presumably — never seen. Even when 
the criminal case of the People versus 

W F is on trial in the New 

Hampshire courts it is not likely that the 

woman's counsel will attempt to question 

that conversation. For today, in the 

safety vault of N. H. Board of Charity 

are filed the following accusing papers : 

I. 

30 Tremont Street, Boston. 

Friday, August 5, 1910, 3 P. M. 

This is to certify that I, Lillian R. 
Carney, Clerk in the Children's Institu- 
tion's Department of Boston, at the re- 
quest of Miss Mary Boyle O'Reilly called 
the telephone toll operator for Nashua, 
N. H., and asked to be connected with 

Nashua 312-15, to talk with Mrs. W 

F of V Street. 

Signed, LILLIAN R. CARNEY. 
ss. Suffolk, August 5, 1910. 

Then appeared before me said Lillian 
R. Carney, and made oath that the state- 
ment signed above was true. 

Signed, D. F. LYNCH. 

— Seal — Notary Public. 

No. 2. 

710 Barrister's Hall. 
Boston, Mass., August 5, 1910. 

I, Horace A. Edgecomb, an Official 
Stenographer of the Superior Court, 
Commonwealth of Massachusetts, upon 
oath depose and say : That while at the 
office of the Children's Institutions 
Department, City of Boston, 30 Tremont 
Street, this day, in the presence of Miss 
Mary Boyle O'Reilly, known to me to be 
Secretary of the Trustees of said Depart- 
ment, and myself, a clerk in said office, 



DAUGHTERS OF HEROD 



289 



Miss Carney, about three P. M. called 
Mrs. W F , of Nashua, request- 
ing the telephone connection through 
station "312, ring 15, Nashua." At 3.13 
the signal sounded, and that connection 
was made. While Miss O'Reilly con- 
versed over the telephone instrument in 
the sound-proof booth in said office in 
Boston I listened to the conversation 
carried on by holding to my ear the 
receiver on the extension desk — set in 
the private office of the Board, which is 
connected with the service wires in said 
booth. By so doing I was able to hear 
distinctly and clearly all the conversation 
which was carried on between Miss 

O'Reilly in Boston and Mrs. F in 

Nashua, of which conversation I made a 
complete stenographic record as it pro- 
gressed, and the following is a transcript 
of said stenographic record or notes, the 
utterances of Miss O'Reilly being desig- 
nated by "Miss McGoldrick," the name 
assumed by Miss O'Reilly for this pur- 
pose. 

Signed, HORACE A. EDGECOMB. 
County of Suffolk, ss : 
Boston, August 8, 1910. 
Subscribed and sworn to, before me. 
HENRY W. B. COTTON, 

Justice of the Peace. 

Operator: "Is this Miss McGold- 
erick?" 

Miss McGolderick: "Yes." 

Operator: "Hold the line for 
Nashua." 

Miss McGolderick : "I want to speak 
with Mrs. F , of V Street. 

Mrs. F : "This is Mrs. F ." 

Miss McGolderick: "This is the girl 
from Charlestown. I want to make sure 
you are the Mrs. F I mean." 

Mrs. F : "This is Mrs. W 

F speaking. 

Miss McGolderick : "Then what is my 
name." 

Mrs. F : "Your name is Mamie 

McGolderick." 

Miss McGolderick: "You are right. 
Now tell me about the letter I sent you." 

Mrs. F : "You sent me a regis- 
tered letter." 

Miss McGolderick: "Again you are 
right. I wanted to be sure Mrs. F ." 



(Laughter by Mrs. F- 



■■) 



Then follow ten pages of questions and 
answers covering, in a single case, the 
whole dangerous business carried on, ac- 
cording to Mrs. F 's recorded state- 
ments, at V Street. Possibly when 

she next hears that conversation read 
from the sworn transcript there will be 
less prolonged laughter than punctuated 
the sentences Mr. Horace A. Edgecomb 
so faithfully set down. 

Still one more exhibit — No. 3. 

August 11,1910. 
City of Boston, 

Children's Institutions Department, 
30 Tremont Street. 
To New England Telephone and Tele- 
graph Co., Dr. 
August 5, 1910, 3 P. M. 
One toll call, Boston, 4240, 
N. H., Nashua, 312-15 

Nine minutes, 55c 
Received payment. 
New England Telephone and Telegraph 

Company, August 11, 1910. 
Bill paid by Miss Mary Boyle O'Reilly, 
M. I. RILEY, 
Bookkeeper Children's Inst. Dept. 

It is fairly safe to assume that that 
incident is closed. 

On August 9, Mrs. F wrote again, 

protesting "as your friend" against fur- 
ther delay. To test the limit to which 
this woman was willing to go "Mamie 
McGolderich" answered, on August 11th, 
"that her 'aunt' threatened to have her 
arrested as a 'stubborn child,' but that she 
was going away, out west, since she now 
had plenty of money, viz. $482, three 
diamond rings and a diamond charm. 
The reply was immediate and startling: 
A telephone call from Nashua that 
brought "Mamie's" supposititious "aunt" 
to the pay station. Mrs. McGolderick of 
Charlestown, the imaginary "aunt" who 
is in reality "Mamie's" friend and tenant, 
is a calm and reticent woman who thinks 
twice before she speaks. "Mamie's" cor- 
respondence having been addressed to 
her house she was ready for the em- 
ergency, and sharply declined to discuss 
"the niece with whom she was dis- 
pleased." At once "Mamie" telephoned 
Nashua, (August 16, 7 P. M., 678-2 



290 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Jamaica, 312-15, Nashua), and Mrs. 

W F , eager and valuable, gave 

quite definite instructions. "Mamie 
McGolderick," presumably young enough 
to be treated as a stubborn child, rich, in 
the possession of $482, and the diamonds, 
was urged to tell her friends that she was 
going out West," "carry what she needed 
in a dress suit case," "appoint some quiet 
corner, well away from troublesome 
neighbors where she could wait unob- 
served," and "Mrs. F would come 

down from Nashua in a red automobile 
some evening, take the girl and her suit 
case in," and "together they would drop 
out of sight." "Now what night shall it 

be?" urged Mrs. W F . "I 

will have to think about it," answered 
"Mamie McGolderick;" and "the girl 
from Charlestown" is still thinking! 

This, as briefly and conservatively as it 
can now be told is the story of the New 
Hampshire Baby-Farms Investigation. 
Whatever more of legal evidence there 
is; whatever more moral proof of black 
State Board of Charity for New Hamp- 
shire who are now in conference, 
Attorney General Edwin G. Eastman. 
All that is written here has been set down 
in the hope that through the women of 
New Hampshire, and in the homelife, the 
lawmakers of the State may be influenced 
to draft and pass certain tardy child- 
saving legislature. 

The first great advance will have been 
made when by statute law in New Hamp- 
shire, lying-in-hospitals shall be licensed 
and open to medical supervision; board- 
ing homes for infants and young children 
licensed and regularly inspected by visit- 
ors reporting to the State Board of 
Charity at Concord. For the evils long 
suspected are here proven ; the awful 
evils that grow of leaving infancy un- 
guarded, childhood unprotected, girlhood 
unsupervised. 

For the evils long suspected are here 
proven, the awful evils that grow of 
having infancy unguarded, childhood un- 
protected, girlhood unsupervised. Now 
that the wrong is known the women of 



New Hampshire may be trusted to deal 
wisely and well with their home problem. 
The leading spirit in the legislative cam- 
paign already planned is a woman well 
known in public service, Lilian Carpenter 
Streeter. Her ancestors were men and 
Hampshire State Federation of Women's 
Clubs, now chairman of the New Hamp- 
shire State Board of Charities and Cor- 
rection. Fate has been kind to Mrs. 
Streeter: Her ancestors were men and 
women of culture, and patriots with the 
red blood of battle in their veins: Her 
father, Alonzo P. Carpenter, was chief 
justice of the New Hampshire Supreme 
Court ; her mother, Julia Goodell Car- 
penter, a worthy daughter of that Goodell 
family so long note-worthy in far sighted 
philanthropic effort; her husband, Mr. 
Frank Sherwin Streeter of Concord, is 
today one of the best known men in the 
State. It is matter of common knowledge 
to social students that Mrs. Streeter's 
able address before the State Judiciary 
Committee (New Hampshire Legislature, 
1895) secured the long fought passage of 
the Bill that created the New Hampshire 
State Board of Charities and Correction. 
To this board Mrs. Julia Goodell Car- 
penter was immediately appointed and 
did invaluable work in the public service 
until the day of her death in 1899. To 
the place made vacant by the passing of 
her heroic mother the courageous daugh- 
ter was named. 

The facts are proven; the Baby Farms 
Bills already framed; but the case of the 
children before the General Court of 
New Hampshire must yet be won! 
With the criminals whose crimes have 
found them out the people, in their homes 
need not concern themselves. Put the 
Baby Farms Bills on the Statute Books 
of New Hampshire and in God's good 
time the State versus the wrong-doers 
will mete out retribution as a dreadful 
warning and example. 

To the New Hampshire criminal courts 
where passionless justice is regnant the 
case of the unwanted children who can 
not be found may safely be referred. 




Jain Temple, Calcutta, India 



'tin 

An Unbeliever's Pilgrimage 



By JUDGE HENRY AUSTIN 




HEN I set out for the East on 
my first visit to the lands of 
mystery and age-old history I 
looked forward, of cpurse, to 
revelations in architecture. Like every 
other traveller on his initial excursion 
outside the familiar world of western 
ideals, I had my own conception of what 
I was to see — a conception gathered 
from photographs, paintings and written 
descriptions — but somehow I failed to 
associate temples and mosques and 
pagodas with the religious ideal that each 
expressed in carven stone and lacquered 
woods. I was an unbeliever, therefore, 
and it was not until I actually began to 
pass from one storied place of worship 
to another that I realized I was making a 
pilgrimage. 

This, perhaps, is the most unexpected 
effect of such a journey, since one sets 
out (at least as I did), with no other in- 
tention than "for to admire and for to 
see," and ends by entertaining a spirit 
very akin to reverence for the faith 
which exhibits itself so beautifully in 



works. That I was not alone in this 
feeling, I soon learned in conversation 
with other travellers, Americans and 
Europeans, and by comparing notes we 
found that it was all the more remark- 
able because we had "done" the temples 
as part and parcel of our general sight- 
seeing. Not one of us had started out 
with a plan to look for more than the 
curious, the beautiful or the grotesque. 
We had not gone about it as we would, 
say, when touring the cathedral towns 
of northern France, or of England. And 
yet we had become impressed by some- 
thing above the museum-like interest. 

From the time I visited the great 
Buddha of Kamakura until I went to 
Agra in North West India and viewed 
the dream palace that is the tomb of 
Mumtaz Mahal, my route was studded 
so to speak with fanes of many creeds. 
Some of these temples were inseparable 
from the life of the place, and as such 
have merged themselves into a back- 
ground for weird rites and practises. 
They might be classed as only a part of 

291 







Shwe Dagon Shrine, Rangoon, Burma 



AN UNBELIEVER'S PILGRIMAGE 



293 



the stage setting in the racial drama one 
sees in passing a few months among 
Japanese, Chinese, Burmese and Hindus. 

But clearly and definitely, as if each 
possessed a personality of its own, there 
remain in my recollection five religious 
or semi-religious edifices. There was, as 
I have hinted, the Buddha of Kamakura 
with the ruins of the temple that was 
destroyed by a tidal wave in the sixteenth 
century, and, a little distance away, the 
shrine of Hachiman. Then, also in 
Japan, was Nikko, with its wondrous 
riot of gold and colors on airy pagodas, 
with its ceremonial bridges, its groves 
of great evergreens and its few remain- 
ing monasteries scattered among the 
ruins of a hundred other monastic 
houses. 

Still another monument to the spiritual 
sway of the Gautama Buddha deserves 
a place by itself for it is the Shwe Dagon 
Pagoda at Rangoon, the most venerable 
temple of the faith of "the Enlightened 
One" in all the world. To the true 
believer in "the Great Renunciation" it 
represents all that Jerusalem is to the 
Christian. I might say that with its 
relics of the Gautama and of the half 
dozen other Buddhistic re-incarnations it 
represents more. Its builders have clear- 
ly symbolized its place in their world 
both by the size and magnificence of the 
main pagoda and its ancillary chapels. 
Though I little anticipated that such 
would be the case, the Shwe Dagon 
remains the best reward for my trip into 
Burma. 

From Burma I crossed to India, and 
while in a previous article I have 
described the bewildering mixture of 
creeds and sects as a nightmare of 
religions, there were two realities in 
stone and brick and marble. At Cal- 
cutta, there is the Jain temple reared by 
those who proudly style themselves the 
conquerors of vice, and who have wrought 
tall vase-shaped domes as delicately as 
might be expected since they believe that 
rocks possess souls. And before I left 
India I saw the Taj Mahal, a tomb that 
has been described as "so beautiful it 
makes one forget the queen its mission 
was to commemorate," and that has very 
obviously been pronounced the most 



glorious structure ever built by the fol- 
lowers of the Prophet. 

On my outward trip across the Pacific 
I had heard my fellow passengers dis- 
cussing the places they were to visit in 
Japan and, like myself, they mentioned 
almost invariably the Buddha of Kam- 
akura, but I had seen most of the sights 
of Yokohama before I took the train for 
Kanazawa and endured the discomforts 
of a Nipponese railway for more than an 
hour. I had come primarily, I must con- 
fess, to see the colossal Buddha which is 
recorded to be about fifty feet high in its 
sitting position and about a hundred feet 
in circumference, but I very soon forgot 
these sordid, curio-seeking intentions 
when the bright little Japanese guide and 
interpreter led our party round to the 
great approach to the Shrine of Hachi- 
man. 

I have said that unconsciously one be- 
comes imbued by the spirit of these 
places, and the first glimpse of that mag- 
nificent avenue of pines was the begin- 
ning. Straight up from the seashore the 
gravelled path led to the great red shrine 
that glowed dully in the frame of dark 
green trees. As the party walked up the 
path the pace was slackened and we ac- 
cepted without noticing it at the time the 
lowered tone in which the interpreter 
resumed his explanations. At intervals 
we passed beneath stone torii (there were 
three of them, I believe), and I was able 
to appreciate, as I had never appreciated 
them in a museum, the graceful simpli- 
city of these symbols that resemble 
roughly two posts surmounted by a beam 
to make a sort of door frame. The torii 
seen in their proper setting are dignified 
monuments as are our own "triumphal 
arches," and their place is among trees 
or on hill tops for they are survivals 
from the ancient Japanese nature wor- 
ship. So old are they that there are 
numberless thedfcifs as to their original 
significance, though one rather pretty 
fancy is that the number and kind of 
birds that perch on them spell the future 
fortune of him who is watching the 
torii. 

At the end of this green arched aisle 
were a great flight of wide stone steps 
leading in fifty-eight courses up to the 



294 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Daibutsu of Kamakura, Japan. Erected in 1252, — 49 feet in height 



Shrine of Hachiman-gu, a brilliant struo 
ture with its pillars, beams and rafters 
painted in vermillion and its decorative 
work a maze of delicate carving. The 
present building dates only from 1828, 
but it is a faithful reproduction of the 
shrine that was erected in 1191 by Yor- 
itomo, the first Shogun, in memory of 
that Emperor Ojin who was revered as 
the God of War after his death in the 
third century. Nearby, like tombs of 
worthy knights in some western abbey, 
are two minor shrines. One of these in 
red is dedicated to the Emperor Nintoku, 
son of Emperor Ojin, while the other is 
painted in satin-smooth black with the 
gold crests of the Minamoto clan in 
memory of Yoritomo. 

Our guide was full of anecdotes of 
feudal Japan, with its fighting, assassina- 
tion and hara kiri. Indeed, it seemed 
that vermillion was the appropriate color 
for the shrine after the blood of a thou- 
sand such affairs had been spilled upon 



the mound. But all this prepared us 
better to approach the Daibutsu, or Great 
Buddha, and after a short stroll, through 
other paths among the pines we came 
upon it — immense, over-powering, with a 
golden gleam from the great eyes that 
seemed to be brooding in the fresh morn- 
ing sunlight. It is difficult even to ap- 
proximate in words the impression the 
Daibutsu makes upon one. I had seen 
photographs of it, and I had seen many 
other Buddhas. Hence I had thought that 
here would be simply a great bronze 
casting, comparable to the Statue of 
Liberty in New York Harbor and note- 
worthy like the latter for its immensity. 
Instead, I found myself fascinated by the 
sense of calm and poise and dignity that 
seemed to emanate from the figure. The 
impression may have been helped in part 
by the contrast between its eyes and the 
rest of the figure. The eyes had a gleam 
of their own quite distinct from the rest 
of the countenance, and this may be 



AN UNBELIEVER'S PILGRIMAGE 



!95 



prosaically accounted for by the fact that 
the figure is all of bronze, while the eyes 
are either a gold alloy, or, as is reported, 
pure gold. If they are pure gold they 
probably weigh thirty pounds each, but 
whatever that detail may be the cunning 
contrast of the precious metal against 
bronze is astounding. 

Within the huge hollow mold of the 
statue were other images and nearby we 
saw the foundations of the temple, Sho- 
josen-ji, that was built early in the thir- 
teenth century and that was swept away 
by a tidal wave nearly four centuries later. 
But the spell of the Daibutsu remained 
and even the nearby Temple of Kwan- 
non, the eleven-faced and thousand- 
handed, did not prove of such attraction. 
Of the statue of Kwannon, though, there 
is an interesting miracle story, for the 
legend is that it is one of two statues 
miraculously carved by Kasuga Myojin 
and the Goddess of the Sun, who cast the 
images into the sea. The statue at Kam- 
akura was washed to the shore there, the 



tale runs, while the other is still drifting 
in the ocean to help those who need aid 
on the great waters. 

After the visit to Kamakura, I set out 
with pleasant anticipations to visit Nikko, 
the sacred district of Japan, a five hour 
railway trip from Yokohama, it is a de- 
lightful mountain health resort and the 
believers have for many centuries "taken 
the cure" while giving their devotion to 
Buddha. I did not wonder that the wise 
old Buddhist monks made this their 
chosen country, and that in the height of 
the feudal regime there were one hun- 
dred and ten monasteries scattered 
among the hills and on the ridges by the 
swift running Inari River. To-day there 
are only sixteen small monasteries oc- 
cupied and one large monastery that is 
in a decaying condition. All this I had 
learned before I reached Nikko and also 
I had heard on every side the native 
adage: "Never say splendid until you 
have seen Nikko." The truth of the lat- 
ter dawned on me at my first sight of the 




Entrance and garden of the Taj-Mahal 



296 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



little village of Nikko Machi. 

Even before the train came to the 
station we were in sight of the famous 
avenues of cryptomerias, the native 
evergreens that were surprisingly familiar 
to me and that I finally recollected having 
seen growing in some of the parks of 
Philadelphia. Through the long narrow 
streets of the- town, (there are only three 
such streets and the village is laid out in a 
serpentine strip for a mile or so), a jin- 
rickisha carried us to the three bridges 
which might be taken as typical of Japan, 
past and present. The Sacred Bridge, an 
ornate structure of vermillion lacquered 
wood with highly polished brass orna- 
ments is closed to the public, and is used 
only by the Emperor or his immediate 
family — a reminder of the days when the 
Samurai as well had their distinctive 
footpaths. Then there was the bridge 
for the general public, and, as an indica- 
tion of the commercial activity of awak- 
erned Japan, the business-like bridge that 



is used for the tram line from the copper 
mines in the mountains fifteen miles 
away. 

In the village were many shrines and 
temples, but these are not to be men- 
tioned in the same breath with the wide- 
spread temples of the forest-covered hills. 
There are everywhere to be encountered 
shrines and mausoleums, more than a 
score of them I believe. They are in- 
teresting and appreciable in their minute 
distinctions of comparative holiness, only 
by students of the intricate folk lore and 
Buddhism that here are interwoven. 
Then, one comes upon ruined monas- 
teries in the wood and occasionally a 
monastery that is still being used by those 
who seek "the Wisdom of the Higher 
Law." 

After all, the greatest beauty of Nikko 
is to be found in the court-yards and the 
five-storied pagoda, that are grouped 
about the Mausoleum of the First Sho- 
gun of the Tokugawa Dynasty and in the 



■ : ■ : ■ . ■■■.■ 




The Taj-Mahal, Agra; India 



AN UNBELIEVER'S PILGRIMAGE 



297 




Beautiful marble screen in the Taj-Mahal. Enclosing the tombs of Mumtaz 

Mahal and Shah Jahan 



neighborhood of the library. To reach 
these, the beautiful straight road through 
the towering evergreens is used, and this 
road is one of the most delightful ap- 
proaches conceivable, for the trees com- 
pletely roof the path and extend in rows 
of precise alignment, until in the far dis- 
tance of perspective they meet in a dark 
green blur which seems to be hundreds of 
miles away. To the Japanese, Nikko is 
sacred ground, and this fact is borne in 
upon the stranger who becomes almost 
bewildered by the number of shrines and 
temples he sees. 

Among a multiplicity of beautiful 
buildings, one that impressed me was the 
Futa-ara-no-jin-ja, or Shinto Shrine, 
erected to the austere religion that is in 
the main indigenous to Japan, and a re- 
flection of the spirit of the old heroes. 
It is a building that might be described 
off-hand, perhaps, as gorgeous, since the 
two wings that make up the shrine proper 
are red lacquered and trimmed with brass 
that shines like gold. Still, in their sur- 
roundings of dark pines they do not seem 



gaudy by any means, and there is some- 
thing cheerful and reassuring about them 
that may be dimly grasped by the Oc- 
cidental who tries to imagine the proc- 
esses of the Japanese mind. 

This temple, by the way, has been 
declared by educated Japanese to repre- 
sent in every detail all that is best in the 
uncorrupted form of Shinto ritual. In 
front is the stage on which the sacred 
"No-dance" is given, the No-dance that 
was the forerunner of the drama in 
Japan. To enter the temple itself, the 
payment of a small fee and the removal 
of one's shoes are prerequisites, and hav- 
ing complied with these I was taken 
through the Haiden and the Honden, as 
the main interior chapels are called. The 
Haiden or outer chapel might be com- 
pared to a bell tower in a church, for here 
are the drums used for sounding certain 
services, while the brass wine bowl used 
in a sort of communion is prominently 
displayed. It was in the gong room that 
a priestess met us, or rather looked over 
our heads as she danced a measure from 



298 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




The Taj-Mahal from the Jumna River 



the "No" in her robes of red and white. 

From this outer chamber we were led 
into the Honden, which is elevated and 
is reached by a few wide narrow steps 
done in red lacquer as are most of the 
interior decorations. Here we observed 
some delicately carved dragons, phoenixes 
and also as the terminals of beams ex- 
tending from the door four lions' heads. 
In another and much smaller room we 
were shown relics preserved in glass 
cases, but I found this too much of a 
sight-seeing affair and was rather 
pleased to leave the temple which was 
far more satisfying from the outside. 

To find places of interest in the wide- 
spread religious settlement among the 
Nikko forests is easy enough ; in fact, 
one could hardly turn about there with- 
out seeing some new temple. The diffi- 
culty is to more than mention the best 
in order to keep within the limits of a 
magazine article. For example, about 
the great monastery called Manganji 
there are three courts, besides mauso- 
leums and a magnificent five-storied 
pagoda in black and red lacquer with 
brass designs everywhere. Of the gates, 
there is no doubt that the Yomeimon 
of the third court is the most ornate for 



it is a mass of carved and gilded beams, 
interspersed with brilliant lacquers and 
resembling with its up-tilted roof a 
temple rather than a mere entrance to an 
outer court-yard. The Denil Gate was 
equally ornate and equally baffling to me 
when I attempted to analyze what there 
was in its design which pleased me. In 
this respect I might say that though 
Nikko was one of the most interesting of 
all the places I visited, it was so large, 
so scattered in its retreat among the 
trees, that I left there after a stay of 
several days with a feeling that one 
might spend years on "the holy hills" 
before understanding the relative im- 
portance of these temples. 

I had seen so many Buddhist temples 
that by the time I left Japan for Burma 
I was well aware of the place held by the 
Shwe Dagon Pagoda among the believ- 
ers. On the outskirts of the busy com- 
mercial, Europeanized city of Rangoon, 
it towers as a veritable monument to the 
faith of these people, who breathe the 
spirit of the East and look forward to 
Nirvama as the great reward. The im- 
pression of size that it gave me on first 
beholding it was no hallucination, for its 
circumference is officially given as 1,355 



AN UNBELIEVER'S PILGRIMAGE 



299 



feet and its height as 370 feet, which is 
somewhat higher than St. Paul's in Lon- 
don. It gleams proudly with gold leaf, 
as if to announce that it houses seven 
hairs of the Gautama Buddha himself, 
as well as relics of the later Buddhas, or 
supposed reincarnations of Buddha. It 
is difficult to gain an idea of the rever- 
ence in which this is held by the Bud- 
dhists, but they come by the thousands 
and the hundreds of thousands each year 
from all over the Eastern world, from 
northern China and Thibet, from Japan 
and India and even from Ceylon, where 
certain students declare the purest form 
of original Buddhism is observed. 

This great gold-encrusted pile stands 
on the summit of a mound, and is ap- 
proached by long flights of brick steps up 
which at all times of the day and night 
throngs of pilgrims make their way. At 
the approach to the main platforms the 
striking sight is the group of huge 
leogriphs, or lion-like creatures of a sort 
of heraldic design. Lions figure largely 
in the decoration of the chapels about the 



foot of the mound, and this is explained 
by a legend that is an eastern version of 
Romulus and Remus and the she-wolf. 
The story is that a baby prince was lost 
in the woods, that he was adopted by a 
lioness and that when he had grown to 
young manhood lie left her to return to 
his people. The lioness followed him to 
a river where he swam to the opposite 
shore while the lioness, cut off by the 
water, remained behind and died of 
grief. For this reason, say the Buddhist 
priests of Rangoon, the lion is used as a 
symbol of kindness, love and strength. 
Except for its great size, its profusion 
of gold and its legends, the Rangoon 
temple was much like other Buddhist 
pagodas and I was therefore on the 
look-out for an interesting religious 
edifice when I reached Calcutta. There 
I first saw a Jain temple and it struck 
me as being a graceful combination of 
the dome and spire forms. Built of 
brick and stone, with the bottom or main 
halls for worship, in an adaptation of 
the common Hindu arch and column, 




Shwe Dagon Pagoda, Rangoon, Burma. The most venerable 
Buddhist temple in the world 



300 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



the striking feature is the dome or 
spire, for it is difficult for the onlooker 
to decide which to call it. It is, rather, 
a vase shape, and as I found, these are 
sometimes built solidly although the im- 
pression sought to be given is that of a 
hollow spire. As for the great care used 
by the builders in trimming and fitting 
their bricks and blocks^ a ready explana- 
tion is to be foundTnTthe fact that the 
Jains believe that rocks have souls. The 
Jains, whose name means "conquerors" 
or to give them their full title "Con- 
querors of Vice," represent a sect that 
has combined many of the principles of 
Buddhism with some of the practises of 
Brahmanism and they represent a 
wealthy body of citizens, second in 
general prosperity only to the Parsees. 
It was from Calcutta that I went to 
Agra to see the Taj Mahal, for I had 



reserved this pleasure to be one of the 
last recollections that I should carry 
away from India with me. This mauso- 
leum of the Empress Mumtaz Mahal, 
built by her husband Shah-Jehan, has 
been described by every artist who has 
ever visited it. To one who is not an 
artist, this monument to the best in 
Mohammedan art leaves him at a loss 
for a fit tribute. 

The photographs may give some slight 
idea of the form; but to see this gleam- 
ing white and cream tinted marble, 
flanked by the four minarets like cam- 
paniles about a church, and surrounded 
by the emeiald tinted garden with the 
broad turquoise lakes, is to sense some- 
thing of its charm of color. Since I was 
an unbeliever, it may be in justice, of a 
divine or poetic sort, that the last shrine 
I visited left me dumb. 




Interior of the Taj-Mahal 
Inlaid with precious stones. They form the most beautiful and precious style of ornament 

ever adopted in architecture 



Northampton the Meadow City and 
Capital of Hampshire County 



By WILLIAM T. ATWOOD 



s 



IDE by side with the college, 
Northampton has grown. The 
intellectual life of the community 
has broadened and so has its in- 
dustrial life. Through the years that I 
have known Northampton it has been not 
alone the seat of learning and refinement, 
but also a high-class, substantial in- 
dustrial centre." 

There is an affectionate note in these 
words of the veteran educator, former 
President L. Clark Seelye, that is sig- 
nificant, and explanatory of much that 
one sees in and about the beautiful 
meadow city. For one of the first im- 
pressions made upon the thoughtful 
visitor, as he notes the many beautiful 
buildings and beneficent institutions that 
adorn and dignify the city, is that men 
have deeply loved this place. 

Without doubt this very pronounced 
local affection is due in no small part to 
the unusual and striking natural features 
that lend so distinctive and individual a 
charm to its landscape. Northampton 
occupies a low-lying ridge that bisects a 
broad and beautiful stretch of meadow- 
land bounded by the Mount Tom and 
Mount Holyoke Ranges and watered by 
the sunny expanse of the swift-flowing 
Connecticut. This affectionate attitude 
toward the natural beauty of the district 
is reflected in the tribute of J. G. Hol- 
land, the distinguished literateur and 
son of Northampton, where he writes in 
"Katrina," 

"Queen village of the meads, 
"Fronting the sunrise and in beauty 

throned, 
"With jeweled homes around her lifted 

brow, 



"And coronal of ancient forest trees, 

"Northampton sits and rules her pleasant 
realm ; 

"There, where the saintly Edwards 
heralded 

"The terrors of the Lord, and men 
bowed low 

"Beneath the menace of his awful 
words ; 

"And there, where Nature, with a thou- 
sand tongues, 

"Tender and true, from vale and moun- 
tain top, 

"And smiling streams, and landscapes 
piled afar, 

"Proclaimed a gentler gospel I was 
born." 

The same feeling is apparent as a 
qualifying trait in the love of Amherst 
men for their nearby alma mater, and 
enters vitally into the mental and 
spiritual wealth of the daughters of 
Smith College, — morally as it is physic- 
ally, the sunniest of all American institu- 
tions of learning. 

The early history of Northampton is 
lively and worthy of its beautiful setting. 

Nearly a quarter of a century before 
King Philip began his famous raids upon 
the white settlers of the lower Connecti- 
cut valley, a little group of colonists from 
the towns of Windsor, Wilbersfield, 
Hartford and Agawam — now Spring- 
field — attracted by the fertility of the 
lands and the hope of profitable trading 
with the Indians, followed the historic 
river northward and set up there log huts 
in the pleasant valley where the stately 
towers of Northampton now rise above 
the shaded streets. Such in brief is the 
story of the founding of the Plantation 

301 






A Xn,,< « F THP. COU.EGE GKOUNDS 



THE MEADOW CITY 



303 



of Nonotack in 1654. It is not likely that 
these hardy, practical-minded settlers 
recognized themselves as actors in the 
prelude of the drama of the founding of 
one of the world's greatest nations. The 
nation which through the amalgamation 
of races should create a new race, but 
had they done so they could not have 
chosen a more worthy stage setting — this 
broad and pleasant plain swelling away 
into rolling foothills and hedged around 
with blue mountains. Here Edwards 
was to thunder the omnipotence of divine 
wrath, here Webster was to acquire some 
of that knowledge which makes his name 
a household word wherever the English 
language is spoken, here Jenny Lind was 
to live and looking over the pleasant 
valley and the sun-lit river declare that 
here is the paradise of America, and here 
were to live and die scores whose names 
are only lesser by comparison. Mighty 
scenes in art, education and religion have 
been enacted here, inspired no doubt by 
the beauty and majesty of the environs. 
It is a somewhat remarkable fact in view 
of the intimacy of religion with the every 
day life of the early New England colon- 
ists, especially when contrasted with the 
religious centre it was to become, that 
although a meeting-house was one of the 
first structures erected in the new settle- 
ment, no church was organized, and no 
minister was called until four years after 
the establishment of the village. Then 
the Reverend Eleazer Mather, brother of 
the celebrated Increase Mather, came to 
Nonotack and after three years of labor 
succeeded in organizing a church, a 
church which has uninterruptedly con- 
tinued its ministrations up to the present 
day. 

Three years later a public school was 
established, the instructor receiving the 
munificent sum of £6 per annum. 

Thus, with its spiritual and mental 
well-being secured, the little settlement 
prospered ; friendly relations were pre- 
served with the Indians who received pay 
for the lands occupied by the settlers and 
whose landmarks and things held sacred 
were respected. A brisk fur trade grew 
up between the races, and not until King 
Philip's war in 1675 were the settlers 
menaced by the aborigines. Hostile rela- 



tions were almost continually maintained 
thereafter until within a decade of the 
beginning of the Revolution. 

Northampton took its name from the 
city in England from which several of its 
settlers came. The name being adopted 
when in 1655 the first board of selectmen 
or "townsmen" was elected. In 1662 
Northampton also had the distinction of 
becoming the seat of the county com- 
missioners of Hampshire county which 
at that time comprised Springfield, Had- 
Jey and Northampton. The religious life 
of those early towns was so important a 
factor in their development, and the 
dogmas into which the zealous divines 
have ever translated the laws of God 
were so closely interwoven with the 
statutes which the settlers had enacted at 
the instance of local conditions, that it is 
fitting here to mention the greatest figure 
in American colonial theology, and one 
who, even though the truth of his phil- 
osophy may be denounced by a more 
tolerant generation, has won the respect 
and admiration of all ages for his sin- 
cerity and earnest endeavor. Jonathan 
Edwards came to Northampton, as assist- 
ant to his grandfather, Solomon Stod- 
dard, in 1726. The elder preacher was a 
man of no little ability although, the bril- 
liancy of his career is dimmed by the 
greater ability of his grandson. The 
Reverend Mr. Stoddard died two years 
after Edwards came to Northampton and 
the duties of pastor fell upon the young 
man, a pastorate he was to fulfil for 
twenty-four years. Here was produced 
his immortal treatise, "On the Freedom 
of the Will," here were delivered the ser- 
mons which caused his name in spite of 
his isolation to echo even to the cities of 
the old world. And from here it was 
that he was called to the presidency of 
Princeton University, where his promis- 
ing career ended before it had scarcely 
reached its zenith. The work of Ed- 
wards is the more wonderful when one 
considers that his works are still read for 
their forceful beauty and vivid imagry, 
works that were written by a man not 
yet thirty, with an education, collegiate 
though it was, not the equal of that of a 
graduate of a modern high school. It is 
a matter of no little congratulation to the 



304 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



inhabitants of the Meadow City that 
here was the home of "The Metaphysi- 
cian of America." 

The visitor still sees the Edwards Elm 
which sheltered the home of the great 
divine and may hear^the velvet-toned or- 
gan hymning man's praise to a merciful 
creator in the church which occupies the 
site of the original Edwards Church, 
where he proclaimed the wrath of an 
everlasting and unavoidable hell, till 
women fainted and strong men trembled. 

The years rolled on, and a maligned 
God was merciful. The little settlement 
prospered and valiantly followed the 
course which seemed to it right, send- 
ing its sons forth to fight the savages, or 
to give their opinions in the counsels of 
the colony, tilling the fruitful ground, 
tramping over the mountains in search 
of game, fishing in the silver Connecticut. 
A life as wearisome to live as it is ideal 
to read about, a life which required more 
than Spartan heroism to live, for no 
Elysian Fields awaited these men ever 
facing death, but the terrors of hell or 
communion with a yet more awful God. 

Northampton was the centre of many 
a stirring scene in Colonial history, 
around it raged the horrors of King 



Philip's war, and the scene of the well- 
known legend of the regicide who ' 'ap- 
pearing suddenly among the terrified 
white men, a great gleaming sword in his 
hand, his white beard covering his breast" 
rallied the fleeing settlers and leading 
them back to victory against the Indians, 
disappeared as mysteriously as he had 
come, is at Hadley, a few miles distant. 

These heroes have long been dust, their 
names effaced from the few tottering 
stones that mark their sunken graves in 
the old cemeteries, and only found by 
some antiquarian searching the ill-kept 
documents which record their early 
struggles, but they laid the foundation 
upon which a worthy monument to their 
endeavor has been built by succeeding 
generations — Northampton, seat of learn- 
ing, hive of industry, city of homes. 

The call for troops from the Colonial 
congress in 1776 met with an eager 
response from Northampton. The old 
fighting blood, developed by long struggle 
with the savages and the New England 
forest, led forth grandsire and grandson 
to protect the country which their fathers 
had made theirs by right of conquest. A 
strong band, small in numbers but mighty 
in spirit led by Captain Hawley, joined 



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Along the River 



THE MEADOW CITY 



305 




!?*5LjiBfi* 





Historic Hockanum Ferry 



the Colonial troops and came back thin- 
ned in numbers but covered with glory. 

And as it had been a shire town in His 
Majesty's province of New England, 
Northampton retained its position in the 
Commonwealth of Massachusetts in the 
United States of America. 

And through the years that have fol- 
lowed Northampton has never ceased its 
movement forward, retaining the old 
New England characteristics, yet accept- 
ing that which is good and beneficial. 
Loved by its inhabitants and receiving 
from their bounteous generosity bequests 
and gifts which have helped the unfor- 
tunate, educated to good citizenship, and 
made the waste land a beauty spot. 

The scene shifts to the modern city. 

The Northampton of to-day is a thriv- 
ing city of twenty-one thousand inhabit- 
ants, located, with exceptional transporta- 
tion facilities, within two hours and a half 
of Boston by rail and three hours of New 
York. Its metropolitan allegiance, al- 
though somewhat divided to its own no 
slight advantage, rather favors the New 
England centre, as more in keeping with 
its own traditions and spirit, although 
its unusually excellent shopping facilities 
are strongly tinged with the New York 



affluence and up-to-dateness. Northamp- 
ton is connected with the outside world 
by thirty-three passenger trains in and 
out daily ; twenty freights in and nineteen 
out and express recewed thirty-five times 
and dispatched thirty-five times daily. It 
enjoys one of the finest water systems in 
the state. It is beautifullly lighted by the 
most up-to-date method known to the 
electrical world, its main street being 
spanned from end to end with flaring 
tungsten arches, giving the effect of a 
gala illumination. 

This result was brought about through 
the cooperation of the Northampton 
Electric Light Company with the Board 
of Trade, the company not only assisting 
in bringing about the result, but bearing 
a considerable part of the expense. This 
affords an excellent example of the man- 
ner in which this particular company 
aligns itself with the progressive interests 
of the city. 

Sixteen churches minister to the religi- 
ous needs of the community, and two 
daily papers and one weekly afford 
evidence of the vigour and brightness of 
local enterprise. Of these papers, the 
Northampton Gazette is the eighth oldest 
newspaper in the country, its first issue 



306 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Night view of Main Street 



appearing November 8, 1786. Since then 
its publication has been continuous. The 
present editor, Mr. Henry S. Geer, has 
occupied his position for sixty-two years, 
and is one of the oldest if not the oldest 
living editor in New England. In few 
communities have industrial and educa- 
tional life been welded into so harmon- 
ious a unit. 

The range of manufacturing is very 
wide, and the facilities for successful 
manufacturing exceptional. This is not 
only theoretically true but is evidenced 
by the continued growth of many estab- 
lishments of national fame, such as the 
Nonotuck Silk Company, manufacturing 
the well-known Corticelli thread, the 
Belding Brothers silk mill, with its out- 
put of spool silk and knit goods, the Mc- 
Callum Hosiery Company, the largest 
manufacturers of silk hosiery in America 
and allied with the Northampton Silk 
Company preparing their own raw mate- 
rial, the Florence Manufacturing Com- 
pany, makers of the Prophylactic tooth 
brush and other toilet articles, and the 
Norwood Engineering Company, manu- 
facturers of heavy castings and filtration 
plants and contractors, national in the 
scope of their operations. To these must 
be added, the Williams Manufacturing 
Company with its products of baskets, the 
Northampton Cutlery Company t the Bay 



State Cutlery Company, and the Clement 
Manufacturing Company, all producing 
high grade cutlery, the Florence Furniture 
Company with its output of caskets, the 
Northampton Emery Wheel Company, 
the Mt. Tom Sulphite Pulp Company, 
manufacturers of sulphite pulp, and in 
this line is one of the country's foremost 
producers, the Connecticut Valley Lum- 
ber Company with its gigantic opera- 
tions, and the Kingsbury Box and Print- 
ing Company, which has here the largest 
of its three plants and supplies the local 
manufacturers with most of the boxes 
and cartons used in packing their pro- 
ducts. Playing the important part that 
it does in modern commercial enterprise, 
the Postal service merits a word or two. 
With sixty-five mails into the city and an 
equal number out bound, Northampton 
has exceptional service. The last mail 
leaves at 11.15 at night, insuring dis- 
tribution in the first delivery in New 
York and Boston. 

The postal authority is vested in men 
of long experience, and many of the sys- 
tems for locating misdirected letters in- 
troduced by them in the local office, have 
been adopted by the government. 

The above instances will give some 
idea of the wide range of manufactures : 
silk hosiery to tooth brushes, tooth 
brushes to elevators. Few of our great 



THE MEADOW CITY 



307 



cities can boast a greater range. 

Located in the midst of a thrifty and 
teeming population, the local market 
alone is sufficient to afford ample en- 
couragement to the beginning of new 
manufacturing enterprises. 

With location convenient to all trans- 
portation facilities, with excellent postal 
and telegraph service, with the fortun- 
ate position of the city with relation 
to the great markets of the country, 
with electric light and power at ready 
disposal, with unexcelled sewage and 
water systems, with efficient police and 
fire departments, it is a courageous 
prophet who will dare to forecast the 
future of Northampton's industrial prog- 
ress. A word should be said in com- 
mendation of the efficient Board of 
Trade whose energy has proved untiring 
in the interests of the city. This organ- 
ization was reorganized about three years 
ago and now numbers nearly two hundred 
members and is composed of the most 
substantial business men in the city. 
Although its existence has been brief, its 



power is already being felt to no slight 
extent, and we can safely prophesy that 
their laudable intentions to make the 
most of Northampton's opportunities 
will not be without fruit. The loyal co- 
operation which exists between this body 
and the authorities of Smith College is 
but one example of the mutual helpful- 
ness that the city and the college have 
shown toward each other. 

Northampton is a city set upon a hill 
in the midst of a spacious and fertile 
plain. From a great distance its pictur- 
esque spires may be seen rising above the 
billowy elms, reflecting back the bright 
sunshine. It is a city of academic calm, 
of streets lined with stately colonial 
homes ; a city of broad lawns, of 
shady walks, of glowing flowers. It is 
a city crowded with history and legend, 
every foot of this historic soil has its tale 
of early struggles and victories. It seems 
paradoxical that we should thus describe 
it after our mention of its business ac- 
tivity, but the city is unique. 

The residential desirability of North- 




Hawley Street School 



308 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



ampton cannot, we believe, be over rated. 
The air of culture and refinement, due 
not only to its position as a college city, 
but alscrTirltio small measure to the 
natural aristocracy which grows up with 
ancient towns, has drawn to it a class of 
residents which many an exclusive sub- 
urb of a great metropolis can not boast. 
Here then is plenty of room and the well 
separated houses set on wide, well-kept 
grounds. The country and the city are 
alike easily accessible, the mountains are 
but a short trolley ride away. Mount 
Tom and Mount Holyoke with their 
beautiful views and delightful pleasure 



the pleasure seeker is ihe beautiful Con- 
necticut with its broad sheen of silvery 
water inviting the lover of boating. 
Northampton indeed is in the Eden of 
Massachusetts. Then, too, there are the 
park-like grounds of various private es- 
tates which are open to the public. Not- 
able among these are the grounds of the 
Lyman estate. Every available nook 
and cranny of the city is utilized as a 
beauty spot. As an example one may 
take the charming little Public Garden, 
between Memorial Hall and the Acad- 
emy of Music. A little time ago the 
place was covered by a rambling wooden 




Baker Hall, Clarke School for the Deaf 



grounds are visited each year by thou- 
sands. Recent improvements have im- 
proved the accessibility and a walk up 
the broad well-graded road which climbs 
Mount Holyoke is a treat for the most 
indolent From the summit of these 
mountains are visible more colleges and 
endowed schools than in any equal area 
in the world. Smith, Mount Holyoke, 
Amherst, Massachusetts Agricultural 
College and many secondary schools 
whose names are famous throughout the 
continent. Another favorite haunt of 



barn, not only an eyesore of itself, but 
destructive as well of the beauty of the 
flanking buildings. This was recently 
removed and the ground is now occupied 
by a veritable gem of colorful gardening. 
The exquisite pergola which forms the 
background is, in summer, ablaze with 
bright geraniums, and overrun with the 
rich foliage of vines. The well-laid out 
gravel walks are lined with beds of 
glowing blossoms, and effective clump- 
ing of shrubbery gives an impression of 
retirement although it is in the business 



THE MEADOW CITY 



309 



centre of the town. 

The Peoples Institute offers several 
annual prizes for the best kept and most 
attractive gardens, classifying them so 
that everyone, no matter how small his 
plot of ground, has a chance to win a 
reward. This arrangement has proved a 
powerful incentive toward the beautify- 
ing of the city, but in justice to the gard- 
ners it should be said that the spirit of 
competition is fostered quite as much by 
a desire to win the approbation of the 
judges as by any thought of financial 
reward. 

Aside from the social life" incident to 



and dignified design. The seating capac- 
ity is approximately twelve hundred. 
In this theatre have appeared the lead- 
ing actors and musical people of modern 
times. It is with no little pride that the 
citizens look upon their unique posses- 
sion. 

Among the better known clubs in 
Northampton, are the Northampton 
Club, incorporated in 1864 and having a 
membership of one hundred and fifty. 
The club occupies luxurious rooms in the 
Hampshire County National Bank build- 
ing. The Northampton Country Club 
has one of the finest nine hole golf links 




Pergola, Northampton Public Garden 



the college, and the various entertain- 
ments which the college gives and at- 
tracts there is in Northampton, one of 
the few municipal theatres in this coun- 
try. For a long time it enjoyed the posi- 
tion exclusively, being the first in that 
field. Ben Greet declares it and the new 
Shakespeare Memorial Theatre at Strat- 
ford-on-Avon, to be the ideal playhouses. 
The Academy of Music was erected in 
1890 through the munificence of the late 
Mr. Edward H. R. Lyman, one of the 
city's greatest benefactors. The theatre, 
both interior and exterior, is of simple 



in the state, here too. are fine tennis 
courts, and facilities for other out of 
door amusements. The house and 
grounds are most attractive and the 
membership, it is needless to state, -is con- 
tinually increasing. 

The Young Men's Christian Associa- 
tion has a modern building, centrally 
located, with lounging rooms, billiard 
looms, an excellent gymnasium, and 
dormitory. The association is thriving 
and there is an enthusiasm among its 
members that is very gratifying. 
Through the Y. M. C. A. the Boy Scout 



310 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 





.:.:.,« Zi^ir. :.,:... :! .. '.: ".. } .. ^ ■ " • ; :. : ■. '• 




- 



Dryads Green 



movement has been introduced into 
Northampton, and there is now a strong 
local batallion. 

Northampton is, perhaps, best known 
to the general public as an educational 
centre. We have already mentioned the 
fact that there are more educational in- 
stitutions within a radius of eight miles 
from the centre of the city than in any 
other equal area in the world. By far 
the larger part of the institutions there 
included are situated in this city. The 
local school system itself is of the first 
rank. Equipped with twenty buildings, 
and a teaching force of one hundred, the 
school department has enrolled nearly 
three thousand pupils. Of these two 
hundred and seventy-five are in the High 
School. The buildings are for the most 
part modern, and all are equipped to in- 
sure the pupils health and comfort. At 
Florence is located the Hill Institute, a 
privately endowed school for the teach- 
ing of cooking, sewing and manual train- 
ing. The work here is largely done in 
evening classes. A free kindergarten is 
also connected with this school. One 
must not pass over, in this connection, 



the Carnegie House of the People's Insti- 
tute. In this building are schools sup- 
ported by public subscription for the 
training of boys and men in manual 
training and engineering branches, and 
for girls in the various branches of 
domestic science. For a nominal charge 
there are language courses. In a fine old 
colonial residence adjoining the Carnegie 
House, and allied with the movement, is 
carried on the model housekeeping de- 
partment of the school and its spacious 
grounds are devoted to the teaching of 
gardening. There are several paid 
teachers, and a number of volunteer in- 
structors from among the undergrad- 
uates of Smith College. 

There are two parochial schools : Saint 
Michael's with four hundred and fifty 
students, and twelve teachers, giving both 
grammar and high school instruction ; 
and Sacred Heart (French) with two 
hundred and fifty pupils and six teachers. 
The latter carries its instruction only to 
the high school courses. Saint Michael's 
school is housed in a handsome brick 
building of recent construction, and a 
new building is now in process of con- 



THE MEADOW CITY 



311 



struction for the Sacred Heart school. 

On the summit of Round Hill, the 
highest point in the city, stands another 
monument to the generosity of North- 
ampton's citizens — The Clarke School for 
the Deaf. Established in 1867, it was 
endowed by John Clarke, and from him 
took its name. It is the first school in 
this country to teach its pupils by what 
is known as the oral method, it was the 
first to teach — what is now universally 
taught in such schools — articulation. 
Through arrangements with the State 
Board of Education, any deaf child may 
be entered without further cost to its 
parents than for its clothing and in- 
cidental expenses, which latter may be as 
low as ten dollars a year. To the person 
who gives the matter thought, the far- 
reaching effect of the method here em- 
ployed is easily apparent. The deaf child 
is no longer dumb. It can express its 
thoughts as readily as those who have 
their hearing unimpaired. This one fact 
removes many a brilliant mind from the 
classification with lunatics and imbeciles 
in which such unfortunates were for- 
merly placed. It is regrettable that the 
school is in need of money, for while the 
state pays a fixed sum for each child ad- 
mitted to the school when application is 
made to it, this sum does not cover the 
actual cost to the school in educating the 
child. Thus the income of various en- 
dowments is eaten up and nothing is 
left for much needed expansion. It is 
devoutly to be hoped that some substan- 
tial contributions will be made the in- 
stitution shortly. The school comprises 
a group of several excellent buildings set 
upon a sightly hill. The teaching force 
is enthusiastic and efficient. Courses 
ranging from the primary to high school 
entrance requirements are taught, and by 
special permission the student may ex- 
tend his study. 

Another endowed institution is the 
Smith Agricultural School. This school 
is the result of a clause in the will of one 
of Hampshire County's most charitable 
citizens, Oliver Smith. At 'his death in 
1845 he left his entire fortune to a board 
of trustees to be chosen by the towns in 
which his charities were to take effect. 
Among these charities was to be the es- 



tablishment of an agricultural school, in 
Northampton, sixty years after his 
death. The result is the splendidly 
equipped Smith School of Agriculture. 
The buildings are situated on the road to 
Florence, and are one of Northampton's 
show places. 

There are two private schools in the 
city whose names are known from coast 
to coast. Miss Capens School for Girls 
occupies a large campus in the residential 
portion of the city and consists of about a 
hundred and fifty students taught by a 
faculty of twenty-eight instructors. 
There are nine excellent buildings, in- 
cluding one of the best girls' gymnasiums 
in the country, an infirmary and central 
heating plant. The school is essentially a 
preparatory institution for Smith College, 
but other branches are taught as well, 
including art and domestic science. The 
Mary A. Burnham School for Girls is 
situated on Elm Street, opposite Smith 
College campus. The great colonial recep- 
tion rooms and parlors are the typification 
of refinement. Averaging sixty pupils 




A WALK IN THE LYMAN ESTATE 



312 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



and a faculty of eighteen, the classes are 
necessarily small and the teaching per- 
sonal. The cosy little class rooms are well 
lighted and ventilated and offer every safe- 
guard for the health of the pupils. A well- 
equipped gymnasium and extra rooms for 
students have been added recently. 

These institutions are the typification 
of modern girls schools. The free, whole- 
some, athletic life tends to make woman- 
ly, rather than to effeminate the students. 
We have learned at last that woman's 
chief charm of daintiness is not incom- 
patable with common sense and self- 
reliance. The shrinking, fainting, hys- 
terical, clinging ideal is, thank heaven, a 
thing of the past. The wide distribution 
of the homes of pupils of these schools, 
has its broadening effect and a tendency 
to develop catholic tastes which, we 
believe, is the chief end of education. 
They are worthy places of preparation 
for the splendid college in whose interest 
they were founded. 



Smith College, the institution which 
has made Northampton world famous as 
an educational centre, was founded in 
1875. It is one of the oldest woman's 
colleges in the country and the largest in 
the United States, which means that it is 
also the largest in the world. 

The beautiful rolling campus shaded 
by magnificent elms, with wide stretches 
of closely cropped lawns, and here and 
there a glimpse of red brick wall showing 
through the rich green foliage, has all the 
charm and restfulness of an English 
park. 

The present enrollment of the college 
is sixteen hundred and eighteen. This 
number is seventeen less than the enroll- 
ment was a year ago when the tuition was 
fifty dollars a year less than it now is, and 
the fact that while eight hundred names 
were entered as applicants for admission 
before January thirty-first of this year, 
besides over a hundred more that were 
placed on the waiting list, but four hun- 





A TYPICAL BUSINESS BLOCK 



THE MEADOW CITY 



313 




Memorial Hall 



dred and fifty-nine were received for ad- 
mission, demonstrates clearly that the 
increase of two hundred dollars for a 
four years course has not had the effect 
of limiting the student body. The college 
is still bound to grow and its healthy 
growth will not be interrupted. Before 
an important increase can be gained, how- 
ever, the dormitory accommodations will 
have to be extended. 

The aim of the college is the creation 
of a life while there where intellectuality 
can thrive, and also the creation of a dis- 
tinctly womanly ideal. Under the new 
administration, no radical changes in the 
old policy will be made. The intercourse 
between Dr. Burton and former Presi- 
dent Seelye is most cordial, Dr. Burton 
evidencing a most ardent admiration for 
his predecessor and the utmost con- 
fidence in his counsel. 

The mutual interest between the 
townspeople and the new president is 
most gratifying, and each should be of 
great assistance and benefit to the other. 

The growth of the college makes an 
increase in the endowment fund neces- 
sary. The call for a new gymnasium to 



meet the ever-growing needs of the in- 
creasing student body is imperative, and 
one or two new scientific laboratories are 
much needed. It is also desirable that 
new dormitories should be erected that 
more of the students may be housed in 
college buildings for however ideal 
private dormitories may be in other 
respects, in them one cannot acquire so 
readily an acquaintance with the mass of 
students which makes for so much that 
is broadening in modern collegiate life. 
Of the sixteen hundred students in 
Smith College only six hundred live in 
buildings belonging to the institution. 

For a city of its size, Northampton is 
peculiarly well supplied with libraries. 
Perhaps, it is, again, the academic at- 
mosphere. Whatever the cause, it has, 
thanks to the generosity of its citizens, 
two. 

The Public Library has its stacks and 
reading rooms in Memorial Hall. It has 
been the recipient from time to time of 
generous bequests, chief among them 
that of Mr. John Clarke in 1869, for 
forty thousand dollars. 

The larger collection is the Forbes- 



314 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Earle Library. The building, a fine 
granite and red sandstone structure, of 
Romanesque type, set in spacious and 
beautiful grounds is a gift to the city of 
the late Judge Charles E. Forbes. The 
book endowment is due to the generosity 
of Pliny Earle. It is the only library in 
the country which will buy any book 
called for if it is not in the stacks. It 
also boasts the largest per capita cir- 
culation in the country. 

Another library in Florence accom- 
modates the residents of that attractive 
suburb. 

As must have been noticed in the fore- 
going pages, Northampton is happy in 
the generosity of its citizens. A word or 
two more should be said in regard to 
these charitable institutions. Not only 
did Oliver Smith make possible the 
agricultural school which bears his name, 
but further he instituted the Smith 
Charities, an undertaking as unique as it 
has been beneficial. When he died in 
1845, he left, as has been said, sixty 
thousand dollars in the hands of a body 
of trustees. The bequest after the ac- 
cumulations had reached three hundred 
thousand, was to be divided into several 
funds. One was for the establishment 
of an agricultural school in Northamp- 
ton, sixty years after his death. The in- 
come of another was to be applied to the 
benefit of indigent boys, who were bound 
out to some calling, and when twenty- 
one years of age were to receive five 
hundred dollars on interest for five 
years, to become a gift at the end of that 
time; for indigent female children who 
were indentured, and when eighteen 
years of age to receive marriage portions 
of three hundred dollars ; for indigent 
women who were to receive fifty dollars 
as marriage portions ; and for indigent 
widows who were to receive not more 
than fifty dollars a year. Other bequests 
followed. 

It is noteworthy that over two thou- 
sand boys, three thousand girls and five 
thousand widows have benefited by his 
munificence. 

Of perhaps even greater importance to 
modern Northampton is the Dickinson 
Hospital. This institution was made 
possible by the generous bequests of 




The Edwards Elm 

Caleb C. Dickinson. It was opened to 
patients in 1886. By conditions of the 
will, patients unable to pay, who are 
residents of Northampton, Hatfield or 
Whatley, are received gratuitously. The 
hospital was further strengthened by 
bequests amounting to thirty-six thou- 
sand dollars and in 1901 was erected the 
Wright Annex and the following year 
marked the completion of the Henry M. 
Shepherd Surgery. 

A training school for nurses is also in 
connection with the hospital. 

The Massachusetts Insane Hospital is 
also located in Northampton. It is a far 
cry from the cruel mad house of a 
few decades ago to this institution which 
is all that its name implies, a hospital 
and not a prison. Its beautiful buildings 
occupy a sightly position a half mile from 
the centre of the city. 

It has already been said that the fertile 
meadows of Nonotack attracted the early 
settlers from Springfield and elsewhere 
and resulted in the founding of North- 
ampton. Although the city has outgrown 
its dependence on agriculture, its en- 
virons form some of the most produc- 
tive land in the commonwealth, and in- 



THE MEADOW CITY 



315 




John L. Mather Alvertus J. Morse L. F. Babbit Clarence D. Chase 

C. E. Hodgkins, Pres. Wm. D. Mandell L. L. Campbell 

President and Committee Chairmen of Northampton Board of Trade 



deed in New England. A step outside 
the city we find great truck gardens with 
their broad fields of corn, onions and 
potatoes. Here also grows in abun- 
dance the famous Connecticut tobacco, 
and the landscape is dotted with the 
great barns where it is dried and pre- 
pared for the dealer. Large crops of hay 
cover the rolling meadows, giving 
promise of abundant fodder. The prox- 
imity of the State Agricultural College at 
Amherst is no small factor in the devel- 
opment of these fruitful lands, for from 
this very section come many of the 
students who, after graduation, become 
the scientific farmers who are so rapidly 
displacing the hap-hazard methods of 
their fathers in the cultivation of the soil. 



A word is due here, with regard to the 
Hampshire, Franklin and Hampden 
Agricultural Society, or, as it is better 
known, the Three County Fair. This is 
the oldest agricultural society in the 
commonwealth, having been established 
in 1818. The books of the original 
society are still preserved, and beneath 
the fine copper-plate articles of incor- 
poration, we find the signature of Noah 
Webster as one of the original movers. 
The growth, since the days when the ex- 
hibition was held in Main Street, of the 
fair, has been steady both in scope and 
public interest. The Agricultural -Society 
now owns spacious grounds and suitable 
buildings, which are enlarged each 
season. 






tt 



Cave Life to City Life' 



By LEWIS E. PALMER 



EVERY Saturday for three weeks 
past five hundred high school 
students from Boston and the 
Metropolitan District have been 
rehearsing for the civic pageant, "Cave 
Life to City Life," presented by Bos- 
ton — 1915, in the Arena, November 
10, 11 and 12. In smaller groups the 
older people of the community — mem- 
bers of historical societies, social clubs, 
settlements, dramatic societies, etc., — to 
the number of five hundred, have been 
meeting and working out the details of 
the various episodes enacted in this, 
the largest pageant yet presented in this 
country. 

The opening scene of the pageant dis- 
closes a cave man crouching before the 



door of his rocky home. With him may 
be seen his wife and children. The man- 
ner of life of the cave dwellers is shown 
and a realistic struggle ensues between 
two cave men over the possession of a 
deer. The victor claims the trophy and 
over "the first hearth stone" the evening 
meal is cooked. 

With the opening of the second 
episode, the light discovers an Indian 
with arms stretched out to greet the 
dawn. He is not a "make believe" In- 
dian, but a real warrior, one of thirty 
Iroquois who live on a northern New 
York State reservation and who have 
come to Boston to take part in the 
pageant. 

Episode III. opens in the town which 




F. E. Moore's Hiawatha Indians who appeared in the Pageant 



316 



"CAVE LIFE TO CITY LIKE" 



317 




The Dame School 



the settlers have founded. The town 
crier passes through the streets crying, 
"O — yes ! O — yes ! O — yes ! To all ye 
of this colony I bring news. O — yes ! A 
proclamation from the Governor! His 
Excellency bids you listen — this day — 
this hour — to the reading of the said 
proclamation by ye Rev. Jonathan Ed- 
wards. O — yes ! Come all ye. Gather 
to this place and listen." About two hun- 
dred villagers congregate around Jona- 
than Edwards who reads as follows : 

"Whereas, it is the duty of all peoples 
to acknowledge the providence of Al- 
mighty God, to obey his will, to be grate- 
ful for his benefits and humbly to implore 
his protection and favour, I do set apart 
and appoint the four and twentieth day 
of this instant, November, to be devoted 
by the people of this colony to the service 
of that Being, who is the beneficent 
author of all the good that was, that is, 
or that will be." 

An ox cart laden with corn approaches 
and the farmer on the cart tosses ofT ears 
to the children who surround him. A 



husking bee follows and John, the village 
fiddler, strikes up the music for a reel in 
which the children join. 

The merriment is interrupted by the 
town crier who announces the imposition 
of the Stamp Act. Violent turmoil fol- 
lows the appearance of the constable who 
orders two men to the stocks "for abreak- 
ing o' the peace." An open fight is 
averted by the appearance of Jonathan 
Edwards who dispels the villagers who 
scatter into four groups representing the 
Dame School, the Spinning School, a 
Quilting Party and a Singing School. 
Each in turn occupies the interest of the 
audience. The school children first give 
their games, their reading and other 
historic episodes. The bustle and gossip 
of the spinning contest historically given 
on Boston Common comes next. Then 
the quilting with their gossiping and 
bustle. Finally, the Singing School with 
their songs, under the direction of the 
minister or a deacon, and again the finish 
of spinning contest. A most interesting 
part of the Spinning School and Quilting 



318 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Party Episodes was the the girls taking 
part actually make the quilts and learned 
the operation of the spinning wheels on 
which they spun the fabrics used in the 
pageant. 

The next scene shows a reception to 
the governor of the colony in which two 
hundred and fifty people participate. The 
minuet is danced by over one hundred 
and fifty and the reception ends with the 
marriage of the governor. 

The next step in the pageant depicts 
the characteristics of the perfect city of 
the future, where proper provisions are 
made for the preventions of disease and 
accident, where work and health and 
recreation are the portion of all citizens. 
The cosmopolitan character of America 
was shown by groups of native dancers 
from various European countries. The 
final feature of the pageant represented 
"Boston and Her Neighbors." This 



group were impersonated by thirty 
figures representing the surrounding dis- 
tricts of the city grouped around a 
central figure — Boston herself. The 
pageanters passed before this central 
group for the final assembly. 

The Boston-1915 civic pageant was 
much more than a mere spectacle. In the 
preliminary rehearsing which, by the 
way, is a most important part of the 
production, cooperation between Boston 
and the whole Metropolitan District has 
been secured — the sort of cooperation 
.that is essential in the development of a 
real Boston, not necessarily a political 
Boston which would swallow up its 
neighbors, but a city which will work 
together in all matters of the common 
welfare. It is this spirit of cooperation 
that was fostered by the Boston-1915 
pageant in bringing together a thousand 
volunteer workers. 




F. E. Moore's Hiawatha Indians who appeared in the Pageant 



The Redolent World 



By ELLEN BURNS SHERMAN 



WERE they all collected in a 
volume, what a golden treasury 
of poetry and romance would 
be the thousand records, grave, 
sweet and tender, which are evoked from 
every one's past by the swift coupling line 
of olfactory association. 

When one considers how unrivaled, as 
a poetic indexer and compiler, the nose is, 
it seems almost a pity that its purely 
utilitarian service in keeping man sup- 
plied with breath should overshadow its 
more subtle function of opening the flood- 
gates of memory. One feels, moreover, 
the need of another name for the nose 
which would better fit its psychical call- 
ing. Nose does very well as a name for 
an organ which shares with the other 
outer sense the duties of a body-guard. 
But as a name for that marvelous sense 
which registers and indexes some of the 
most memorable passages of our ex- 
perience, the word nose is like a copper 
setting for an opal. This verbal lack is 
not felt with regard to the other senses 
which serve so many hours of the day as 
statisticians and bookkeepers of the hum- 
drum, odorless events of the day. But 
the nose will none of these, making its 
entries instead from those fertile zones 
of human experience which are irrigated 
by poetic emotions. 

To the million characteristic transac- 
tions of Wall Street, as to its hard, dusty 
pavements, the nose gives no heed. But 
the clump of arbutus, which Hester wore 
the last time she saw Gregory, — ah, yes, 
of that it makes, perchance, a ten-page 
entry, in its own indelible symbols. Not 
only does it make a record from its own 
findings, but it subpoenas all the other 
senses, by its wonderful secret service 
system of association. From these, it 
gathers the last detail of the mise-en- 



scene in such a case: what Hester said, 
how she looked, how cold her hands 
were, how the curtain fluttered in the 
window behind her and the ominous thud 
of the falling log in the fireplace. Then 
all these items are filed away under the 
sesame label of "Odor of Arbutus." 

Afterwards, years and decades pass ; 
but let Gregory catch but an infinitesimal 
whiff of the fragrance of arbutus, or 
hear the word spoken, and the curtains 
of memory will rise on the old scene, 
with the instantaneous flashlight that fol- 
lows the turn of an electric switch. 

However veiled are the devices of dear 
old Dame Nature, sooner or later her 
children are sure to find her out. When 
she gives us an organ and says, "Use this 
to fill your lungs," we know that it 
is only her Socratic way of asking us to 
find out what else can be done with a 
nose. 

Then, like so many of her other gifts, 
we find this one a veritable Aaron's rod 
in its power to bud and branch into all 
manner of undreamed-of possibilities. 

Even while its possessor is yet a child, 
this poet-sense begins its work. Like a 
bee, it sips something from every fragrant 
blossom and stores it up in the honey- 
cells of memory. And as the flavor of 
honey made by bees varies widely ac- 
cording to the kind and combination of 
sweets culled, so does the flavor of the 
memories distilled by the nose. 

One of the most grievous deprivations 
of city-bred children comes through the 
losses which they suffer in fragrant as- 
sociations which are the Pan-blessed gift 
of the child of the country. 

Could any coffers buy the memories 
of one, who, during the years of child- 
hood had inhaled the holy fragrance 
of early morning in the country, when 

3i9 



r 






i I 






^ 




s 




rayneine yreer 

And ' ■ 
3 m°nument t° 



J H JL I 






From a drawing by R. E. Wade 



The New England Farming Village 



The Sister 



By FRANCES BENT DILLINGHAM 



A Woodland Meeting 

DEBORAH will never be satis- 
fied if she be not first. I won- 
der how thee can abide it, 
Sarah. John Williams was 
talking to thee when she took him away." 
Martha Stebbins gave an impatient twitch 
of her gray-clad shoulder as she spoke. 

"An I had a sister like Deborah I 
would not talk so behind her back, 
Martha." The pink color deepened in 
Sarah Ward's cheek as she spoke; such 
stoutness was unusual in her. 

Martha laughed shortly, but the thick 
red of her cheeks did not change. "So 
long as 'tis only John Williams, I can 
stand it. If 'twere Reuben Bennett now. 
But all must run after when she whistles 
and then she flouts them." 

"I had a dream last night," began 
Sarah hesitatingly. "I dreamed that — 
that she did mock John Williams too and 
that I — and he did — nay, I will not tell 
thee;" she shut her soft lips together at 
the sight of the scornful curve on the 
fuller red ones before her. 

"Does thee believe in dreams, Sarah ?" 

"Now Deborah — " 

The word was echoed from the house 
behind them ; they both turned and in the 
door-way saw a woman of small, bent 
figure, shading her eyes from the sun 
now looking full in the face of mortals 
from the horizon-line. "Where is 
Deborah?" called Patience Stebbins. 

"Ask me not. She is gone awalking 
with John Williams," Martha shouted 
back. 

"Peace, Martha," whispered Sarah at 
her side, "someone will hear thee." 

Martha laughed and slipped her arm 



in Sarah's, who let it rest there, almost 
unwillingly. "Come, Sarah, thee and I 
will go awalking too." 

Patience Stebbins still stood in the 
doorway and looked down the road away 
from the two girls, to where the wood- 
land started its slender foot-path, later 
lost amid the closer trees. 

"To walk in the woods with John Wil- 
liams is not seemly," she muttered half 
aloud, "but Deborah is ever a law unto 
herself." Then she turned into the 
house and closing the door behind her, 
shut out the sun. 

The green drooping branches and the 
gray-clustered tree-trunks had broken 
the piercing, uncompromising shaft of 
sunlight into a wavering, fickle thing, flit- 
tering between the shadows and coquet- 
ting with the breeze in the woodland 
path where Deborah Stebbins and John 
Williams were walking. The man 
looked up at the brilliant creature by his 
side half fearfully; she stood as tall as 
he, but more erect; she walked with as 
free a step, but more gracefully. 

"Thee is a strange maid, Deborah," he 
was saying. 

She turned on him with a quick little 
smile that softened the flash of her 
black eyes. "Wherefore?" she demand- 
ed ; — a simple word, but the softness of 
her bell-like voice gave it fathomless 
meaning. 

"Why — " he stammered a little — 
"thee is so wise — thee can speak so 
wonderously in meeting — like a preach- 
eress — a great preacheress and yet after- 
wards thee can be as simple as any 
woman." 

"Simple," she threw back her head 
scornfully but twinkled at him, "simple 



*This story will appear serially in the New England Magazine 



All rights reserved. 
323 




raynema ^reer 
and ' • 
n°nufnent t° 



.-\,j. 



From a drawing by R.E. Wade ^ ^ England FarmiNG VILLAGE 



The Sister 



By FRANCES BENT DILLINGHAM 



A Woodland Meeting 

DEBORAH will never be satis- 
fied if she be not first. I won- 
der how thee can abide it, 
Sarah. John Williams was 
talking to thee when she took him away." 
Martha Stebbins gave an impatient twitch 
of her gray-clad shoulder as she spoke. 

"An I had a sister like Deborah I 
would not talk so behind her back, 
Martha." The pink color deepened in 
Sarah Ward's cheek as she spoke; such 
stoutness was unusual in her. 

Martha laughed shortly, but the thick 
red of her cheeks did not change. "So 
long as 'tis only John Williams, I can 
stand it. If 'twere Reuben Bennett now. 
But all must run after when she whistles 
and then she flouts them." 

"I had a dream last night," began 
Sarah hesitatingly. "I dreamed that — 
that she did mock John Williams too and 
that I — and he did — nay, I will not tell 
thee;" she shut her soft lips together at 
the sight of the scornful curve on the 
fuller red ones before her. 
- "Does thee believe in dreams, Sarah?" 

"Now Deborah — " 

The word was echoed from the house 
behind them ; they both turned and in the 
door-way saw a woman of small, bent 
figure, shading her eyes from the sun 
now looking full in the face of mortals 
from the horizon-line. "Where is 
Deborah?" called Patience Stebbins. 

"Ask me not. She is gone . awalking 
with John Williams," Martha shouted 
back. 

"Peace, Martha," whispered Sarah at 
her side, "someone will hear thee." 

Martha laughed and slipped her arm 



in Sarah's, who let it rest there, almost 
unwillingly. "Come, Sarah, thee and I 
will go awalking too." 

Patience Stebbins still stood in the 
doorway and looked down the road away 
from the two girls, to where the wood- 
land started its slender foot-path, later 
lost amid the closer trees. 

"To walk in the woods with John Wil- 
liams is not seemly," she muttered half 
aloud, "but Deborah is ever a law unto 
herself." Then she turned into the 
house and closing the door behind her, 
shut out the sun. 

The green drooping branches and the 
gray-clustered tree-trunks had broken 
the piercing, uncompromising shaft of 
sunlight into a wavering, fickle thing, flit- 
tering between the shadows and coquet- 
ting with the breeze in the woodland 
path where Deborah Stebbins and John 
Williams were walking. The man 
looked up at the brilliant creature by his 
side half fearfully; she stood as tall as 
he, but more erect; she walked with as 
free a step, but more gracefully. 

"Thee is a strange maid, Deborah," he 
was saying. 

She turned on him with a quick little 
smile that softened the flash of her 
black eyes. "Wherefore?" she demand- 
ed ; — a simple word, but the softness of 
her bell-like voice gave it fathomless 
meaning. 

"Why — " he stammered a little — 
"thee is so wise — thee can speak so 
wonderously in meeting — like a preach- 
eress — a great preacheress and yet after- 
wards thee can be as simple as any 
woman." 

"Simple," she threw back her head 
scornfully but twinkled at him, "simple 



*This story will appear serially in the New England Magazine. All rights reserved. 

323 



324 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



am I ? So is Caleb Brown. Simple, for- 
sooth !" 

"Deborah, thee knows well what I 
would say. Why does thee twist my 
words about?" 

She shook her head obstinately. "Oh, 
I know well what thee is thinking — that 
I am bold." 

"Deborah," he seized her hand sud- 
denly, and she did not draw it away ; she 
shrank ever so little from him and her 
dark lashes dropped over the sparkle of 
her eyes. "Thee knows what I think of 
thee. Thee knows that I love thee." 

Then, as she did not speak, the charm 
of her silence loosened his tongue, and in 
a moment there were heard more pas- 
sionate words than her pretty Quaker 
ears had yet listened to and than had yet 
passed his sober Quaker lips. But when 
his arm would have been carried, in the 
heat of his eloquence, about her waist, 
she suddenly moved away from him, her 
figure stiff and unyielding, her eyes frank 
and grave. 

"No, no, John Williams," she said 
composedly, "not so fast. I should have 
told thee before. I am not sure. Me- 
thinks I care not for a lover — or a hus- 
band. Perchance I will never marry, I 
will just be a preacheress." Then sud- 
denly, as if discussing a turn in the road, 
she sat down on a fallen log by the path- 
way and looked up at him in calm con- 
sideration. "I know not yet which to be 
— a preacheress or just a simple woman." 
She smiled softly at him as he stood 
there with the light on his face succeeded 
by a dull grayness ; his arm still half- 
extended. 

He moistened his lips to speak, then 
became aware of that awkward protrud- 
ing arm ; he dropped it as if touched by 
a red-hot iron. "Thee should have told 
me sooner," he said in a hard tone. 
"Farewell, Deborah Stebbins," and he 
turned away. 

But in a moment she was up and after 
him and stood beside him in the path, 
touching his arm. "Forgive me, John 
Williams. Thee is angry with me. I — I 
did not mean to hurt thee. I know not 
yet — some day — perchance." 

A faint gleam crossed his face that 
might have been succeeded by the light 



of hope, had she not drawn back again. 
"Nay, what am I saying? I do not know. 
I should have to meditate and pray and — 
only — thee is not angry, John Williams, 
thee is not." There was a little move- 
ment of the toe of her shoe, not quite a 
stamp of the foot; she nodded at him, 
her eyes compelled him though her lips 
smiled. 

He spoke half reluctantly. "I am not 
angry, Deborah." 

"Let not the sun go down upon thy 
wrath," she smiled on him again. "John," 
she went on, and the tips of her long 
fingers touched his sleeve, "I will think 
on what thee has said." She gave him 
a quick nod and turned back to seat her- 
self again on the log. But he stood look- 
ing steadily at her with a scrutiny which 
she bore as coolly as any court belle. At 
last, as he did not stir, she looked up. 
"Farewell, John Williams," she said, and 
although he hesitated, opening and shut- 
ting his lips, yet he soon took his dis- 
missal and walked away down the path 
they had come together. 

When he had disappeared, the girl 
sprang to her feet, flung out her round, 
lithe arms, then with a quick glance over 
her shoulder ran lightly down the path, 
speeding like some woodland thing, a 
poem of movement with the long curving 
lines of her figure changing in her swift, 
easy course. 

In the joy of running, she looked 
neither to the right nor left until her 
graceful progress was brought to a stop 
by a violent collision with some one who 
had turned from a side path. 

"Egad, did I hurt you?" a voice cried 
and Deborah recoiled from a tall man in 
a scarlet uniform. 

She had made no sound when they met 
so abruptly, though the print of one of 
the buttons was on her cheek. Now she 
threw back her head, angry that she must 
look up to his height; her eyes flashed 
and there was an unmistakable stamp of 
her foot. 

"Why did thee not look where thee 
was running to? Are thine eyes so dull 
of seeing?" 

The man laughed : he had a handsome 
face with strong uncompromising lines. 
"Ho, and when one is hit by a catapult 



THE SISTER 



325 



is one to be blamed? 'Twas you, fair 
mistress, whose handsome eyes were, — 
no, not dull of seeing, but — egad, you 
are hurt ! Here, your lip is bleeding." 
Whereupon he whipped out a handker- 
chief and made a step toward her as if to 
press the linen to her lip. 

But Deborah drew back and held out 
her own hand ; he put the handkerchief 
in it and she held it to her lip. Over 
the white folds, her dark eyes danced at 
him, half-menacing, half-inviting. 

The man bent forward a little. "I am 
most sorry I hurt you," he whispered. 

The handkerchief came down now. 
"I am not hurt, 'twas but a scratch. 
Thank thee." She half turned away, but 
watching him from the corners of her 
eyes. 

He had removed his three cornered 
hat, and now he bowed low; then he 
touched to his lips the handkerchief, at 
the spot where lingered a tiny drop of 
blood, before he slipped it within his 
waistcoat. 

"The next time we meet, which I hope 
will be soon, I will bear all the hurt," he 
said. 

"I hope it may be to the hurt of 
neither," she returned quickly. 

He sighed and pressed his hand to his 
heart, just where the handkerchief lay 
hidden. "It had already been to my hurt, 
though the wound is not so plain as 
yours." The tone was mocking, yet the 
blood danced in her veins as it had not 
to John William's more serious protests. 

She laughed with her fine color deep- 
ening. "Then my handkerchief cannot 
heal it." As she spoke she waved a 
small, plain square of home-spun linen. 
He held out his hand to take it, but hers 
was behind her back in a moment. 

"Nay," she said with a soft laugh. 
"If I understand thy folly, thee must 
understand mine." 

"Mine is not folly," he protested ; but 
she was moving slowly backwards with 
her gleaming eyes still on him. 

"Do not go," he cried, "you shall be 
foolish or wise as you please, but let me 
walk with you." 

But she held out her hand against his 
coming and he paused in his impetuous 
step forward. "Alas, no, the Friends 



would say a scarlet coat and drab gown 
went not well together. Indeed, I should 
preach thee a sermon on the bloody 
pastime of war." 

"Yes, preach and I will listen." 

"No, not to-night, 'tis too late." 

"I shall walk here often at sunset-time," 
said the man looking hard at her. "And 
I shall pray for some good preacher to 
read me a sermon on my evil ways." 

"I will tell Friend Ephraim." 

"I want not Friend Ephraim." He 
called after her. 

"Farewell, to thee," her voice rang 
clear as a vesper bell. 

"Good-bye," he answered, standing in 
his place and watching the splendid 
figure in its simple gray move down the 
leafy aisle. The sun had set, there were 
no dancing yellow beams to flicker about 
her, only softening, mysterious shadows 
that matched her quiet gown. Suddenly 
the man stepped forward with a low- 
drawn whistle of surprise, for there on 
the ground lay a small square of linen. 
When he lifted his head after stooping 
to pick it up, the vision had disappeared 
between the green boughs. 

Deborah went down the path, out into 
the open and up the road to the Stebbins 
house. She entered the great keeping- 
room with a soft click of the door not 
opened since Patience closed it sometime 
ago. Patience was bestirring herself by 
the fireplace, but Deborah walked to the 
farthest window and seated herself in 
the rush-bottomed chair; she drew to- 
ward her the small table on which lay the 
Bible, opened it and began to read zeal- 
ously with bent head. 

Patience's voicebroke in on her reveries. 
She was peering around the settle placed 
at right angles to the fireplace. 
"Deborah !" 

"Yes." Deborah did not lift her head 
or move the hand that shaded her eyes. 

"I wish thee would spin the wool that 
is waiting ; thee promised to finish it long 
since." 

"Peace, Patience," Deborah lifted her 
face now with a lofty look of rebuke. 
"Does thee not see that I am reading 
from the World ?" 

"Yes, yes, I see," answered Patience, 
"but does it not say somewhere there, 



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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



'To everything there is a season.' " 

"And a purpose to everything under 
heaven," finished Deborah tranquilly. 

"How will thee look after thy hus- 
band's house if thee is always reading 
the Book?" came the elder sister's voice 
suddenly. 

"My husband!" Deborah lifted her 
head from the book with so slight a start 
that Patience had not seen it ; she turned 
wide inquiring eyes on her sister. "Me- 
thinks I shall have no husband." 

"No husband!" Patience laughed 
shortly. "I warrant thee will have a hus- 
band and that right soon." 

"I know not why I should want a hus- 
band," meditated Deborah aloud. "It 
means spinning and weaving and milking 
and brewing and children that are sick 
and fretful and a man whose will thee 
must obey." Deborah gave a little 
shivering shrug. "Now Martha will 
doubtless have a husband, but I ! No, 
Patience, I shall never have a husband." 

Then with a queer little smile, "But if 
I do, Patience, thee shall live with me, 
and thee shall spin and weave and nurse 
the children. What could I do without 
thee, good useful Patience! Thee shall 
stay with me till thee has a husband of 
thine own." 

Patience colored at the prospect. She 
was small and bent with twisted features 
and sallow skin, and no lover had yet 
come her way. 

"Or, perchance, I shall have a husband 
who can give me many servants, and then 
thee shall live with me and order them 
about ; Patience, thee will like that. Ah ! 
some day I will do for thee, Patience, 
now I am useless — " 

"Oh, Deborah, thee is not useless," 
Patience's sharp voice protested. "Thee 
can speak most wonderously in meeting, 
better, much better than the ministers 
themselves. Methinks some day thee 
will be a minister thyself. All who hear 
thee remember it." 

Deborah folded her long slim hands 
across the pages of the open book and 
leaned forward a little. "Yes, I can 
speak, I can always speak. I have the 
gift of tongues, but it profiteth me 
nothing." She frowned and leaned back 
again discontentedly. 



"No, Deborah," cried Patience," it is 
not so, it — " 

k T will make it profit me," cried 
Deborah rising suddenly and closing the 
book. "Patience, does thee never long 
to be some great person? To have thy 
name in high places, to have thy will law, 
to speak and know it is done? The 
Quaker cap on her blue-black hair 
seemed almost to touch the low, heavy 
rafters as she walked forward with a 
quick step. 

"Why no!" said Patience, looking up 
in a slow wonder from the hearth where 
she was kneeling. "I want but enough 
to eat and the wherewithal to clothe me 
and that is all." Then as Deborah stood 
looking down on her with a tolerant 
smile, Patience still stared into her eyes. 

"Thee has strange eyes, Deborah, I 
have never seen their like. They are so 
black, so black that I scarce see the 
middle." 

"I like not strange eyes," Deborah said 
stepping to the small mirror in its black 
frame on the opposite wall. 

"Oh, thine are wondrous, Deborah. 
Thee knows that already." 

Then, while Deborah stood studying 
her handsome face in the glass, the outer 
door was suddenly flung open and 
Martha and Sarah Ward burst into the 
room. Sarah sank wearily into a chair; 
Martha panted against the door-frame 
with one hand at her side. 

" 'Tis the British, the British, they are 
coming this way. They have spared us 
this long that they may get the more in 
their forage. What can we do? They 
will come upon us ! Thee knows what. 
others have suffered." It was Martha's 
voice, she was almost crying. 

Deborah came to the doorway and laid 
her arm about Martha's heaving should- 
ers. As they stood together a superficial 
observer would have cried out at the 
resemblance, albeit Martha was shorter 
and stouter in figure, thicker in feature 
and coarser in complexion. But the real 
difference was an inner rather than an 
outward one; Martha was buxomly 
pretty ; Deborah loftily beautiful. 

"Be not fearful, Martha," she said 
soothingly, as if to a child, though 
Martha was a year older than she. 



THE SISTER 



327 



"We are peaceful people, they will not Deborah nodded and frowned but 

harm us." Patience came to the front though Sarah stopped here, Patience had 
now, carrying still in her hand the long seen the signal. 

ladle with which she had been lately stir- J "What new foolishness is thee up to, 
ring. IjDebby?" she demanded. 

"They will not care, they will come' j Sarah explained quickly. " 'Tis not 
here just the same. They will take our ;; Deborah's fault, she can make me dream 
cows and horses and burn our houses and J dreams, she did one day when we were 
do what they like to us who are defence-^ 'alone, and now she can do it when we 
less — oh, I know, I have heard !" p want to know things. I — I go to sleep 

"Friend Preserved Bennett is fright- £\SO easy." 
ened and Caleb Brown is distracted with ' Then Deborah swept across the room 
fear," went on Sarah. to Sarah's chair and suddenly kneeling 



"What does thee think, Deborah?" 
Martha turned her round face up to her 
sister's. 

Deborah smiled mischievously, "Will 
not Reuben Bennett protect thee?" she 
asked. Martha colored and her full red 
lips pouted. "They will not harm us," 
added Deborah calmly. 

"How does thee know, Deborah, how 
does thee know?" Martha twitched her 
shoulders beneath Deborah's arm to 
bring her back to concrete facts. 

But Deborah did not answer, she was 
looking straight at Sarah. Her eyes big, 
black and compelling, were fixed on the 
girl's soft, blue ones that stared up at 
them helplessly. Deborah's dark, even 
brows contracted. Sarah's eyes closed 
•slowly, she moved her head from side to 
side and spoke in a weird, far-away 
voice : 

"The red coats are two miles away, 
they are coming hither. I see them plan- 
ning against us. But there is one, stand- 
ing in the road — in the wood — and one is 
stopping his way, it is a woman, she 
has—" 

"Sarah," called Deborah's bell-like 
tones. 

A shiver passed over Sarah's frame, 
her hands fell from her lap on each side, 
she lifted her head slowly and opened her 
soft eyes. They passed around the 
circle ; at Martha with gaping mouth 
leaning against the door frame, at 
Patience with the ladle still in her hand 
peering at her, and then at Deborah 
standing quite erect and smiling on her. 

"Sarah," cried Martha, the first to find 
words, "what was thee doing?" 



beside her, put both arms about the 
slender maid. 

} "Of all the people in the world, Sarah, 
thee does love me the most — and I thee," 
she whispered this last in Sarah's ear as 
she rubbed her smooth cheek against 
Sarah's soft one. "Forgive me about 
Tfohn, I was silly." 

"There is naught to forgive," mur- 
mured Sarah. In Deborah's embrace she 
looked like a small wild-rose beside a 
brilliant garden beauty. "What did I 
say but now?" 

"That the British were to come and 
should be turned away. I will turn 
them away." She rose from her place 
beside Sarah. 

"I shall believe it the more when I hear 
they have left the neighborhood," said 
Patience turning again to the stirring. 

Deborah straightened in the centre of 
the room. "Thee has little faith, 
Patience, but never fear, I will save 
thee." She spoke like a tragedy queen 
delighting in her audience. 

CHAPTER II 
Favors Received and Given 

Late the next afternoon, while the rays 
of the sun were struggling to illuminate 
the woodland path, Deborah came walk- 
ing toward the far brightness. There 
was one sunbeam that lay across her eyes 
in such a way as to dazzle her vision and 
to make her great black orbs gleam red- 
dishly to the man who awaited her com- 
ing. Beneath her white neckerchief 
Deborah's self-possessed heart beat fast 
and the color flamed to the band of hair 
against her forehead as she saw that 



Sarah looked at Deborah and laughedi'^somebody stood just beyond in her way. 
softly, "Deborah put me to sleep." •"'Then, as she came nearer, she recognized 



328 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



John Williams^ and the chill relaxation of 
disappointment gave her face the cold- 
ness of a marble statue. 

"Ah, John, is it thee?" she asked 
quietly. 

"Yes, Deborah," answered John. He 
stood humbly before her, and noted that 
the red gleam had died from her eyes. 
"I did hear that the British were about, 
indeed, I thought a moment since I saw 
a redcoat lurking in these very woods." 

The hint of a curve caught the corner 
of Deborah's large, perfect mouth. "That 
is indeed sad," she sympathized gravely. 
"But John," the smile was evident now, 
"I am not afraid of the red coats." 

"That I know full well, Deborah, thee 
is afraid of naught. Innocence and 
modesty have no fear ; but the Britishers, 
I know have also no fear, neither of man 
nor woman nor God." 

"Will thee walk back to the house with 
me, John?" she asked, stepping almost 
appealingly to his side and casting her 
great eyes up at him. He trembled with 
the joy of walking beside her as they 
turned away from the wood. 

"What should I do John, if I should 
see a red-coat," she seemed almost fright- 
ened. 

"Indeed Deborah," he returned, with 
that foolish desire of the best of us, not 
to fail when asked for advice, know we 
ever so little of the matter. "Thee must 
hurry home as fast as thee can." He 
smiled down at her protectingly ; there 
was something appealingly feminine 
about her now. 

"Should I run? Would it be seemly 
for a maid to run ?" 

"Alas, Deborah, I fear thy running 
would be of small use against a man's 
fleet foot." 

She had now cast a swift glance over 
her shoulder, then she looked up with a 
face dancing with mischief. "Let me 
see, John, let me try if I can run as fast 
as thee. No one will see, let me practice 
for the Britisher. When I say, three, 
go!" 

Perhaps he would have hesitated, but 
the silvery tones rang out, "One, two, 
three ;" and at the word "Go," the soberly 
clad figure by his side darted down the 
path. If he were to keep her in sight he 



must hurry after ; but how fleet she was ! 
He must hurry faster or she would be 
out of sight. The next he knew, he was 
speeding after her flying figure. But, 
although at the last, with a man's deter- 
mination not to be outdone by a woman 
in such a contest, he had exerted himself 
to the utmost, yet he was several lengths 
behind when she drew herself up upon 
the edge of the lot and stood at the en- 
trance of the path, straight and demure 
with her hands folded across her kerchief 
in front. She was panting a little, but 
was not too breathless to speak. 

"Fie, John, I did not think I was so 
fleet of foot as thee." Then as she saw 
a slight look of annoyance pass over his 
face, despite his efforts at a smile, she 
added charmingly, "Surely, now I need 
to fear no Britisher, for none can be 
swifter than thee." 

He lushed with the sweetness of her 
praise ; then laughed outright. "What a 
woman thee is, Deborah, shall I never 
know thee?" 

She shrugged her shoulders in that un- 
Quaker-like way she had. They had 
come to the road now, and were walking 
towards her home. 

"I know not myself, John, and alas ! 
my better acquaintance with myself 
makes me not love myself better." 

"But the better I know thee, Deborah, 
the better I shall love thee. Deborah," 
he moved a little nearer, "the spirit of 
the Lord moveth me to ask thee to be 
my wife. I have said much to thee 
already of it ; Deborah, when will thee 
be my wife?" 

She stopped in the road and looked at 
him. "Perchance thee does mistake the 
Spirit," she said calmly. "I cannot say 
when I will be thy wife, John ; I myself, 
have not meditated on the question ; I 
have felt no call of the Spirit." 

"Thee has had ample time to meditate. 
Give me thy answer now, Deborah Steb- 
bins." 

His voice had an angry, masterful note; 
a light came into her eyes and her head 
went high. "Then John, methinks I shall 
never be thy wife." She would have 
moved on, but he stood directly in her 
path. 

"Deborah," he spoke solemnly; his 



THE SISTER 



329 






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4 From a drawing.by W. E. Wade 

The Old New England Homestead 



face was white, great beads stood on his 
forehead. "Think well, Deborah. Is 
this thy answer? Is this what thy eyes, 
and thy voice and thy hand meant, but 
yesterday — but — " 

She broke in upon him frowning and 
moving her head impatiently, but not 
without a certain appeal. "John," she 
said softly, "thee cannot understand, but 
often I speak what has small meaning 
save what those spoken to, give it. I told 
thee I know not myself. To-day I think 
I will not marry any man ; to-morrow I 



know not how I shall feel." 

"A great love is unchanging, the same 
yesterday, to-day and forever," he said 
doggedly. 

"Farewell, John." She turned toward 
the Stebbins' house. He answered almost 
sullenly. "Farewell." 

But when he turned away, she looked 
after him and he had gone a few paces 
down the road when she called in her 
mellifluous voice : "Fare thee well, John 
Williams." The simple words held many 
meanings, and when the man could not 



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NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



but turn his head, she waved to him with 
her slim, white hand. 

When he was out of sight, Deborah 
turned and went down the woodland 
path; there was no John Williams this 
time, but she had not gone far when the 
sight of a red-coat set her heart agoing, 
though not all with fear. 

The man came nearer and swept her a 
low bow. "Welcome, my fair Atalanta." 

Deborah knew not at all what he 
meant, but concealed her ignorance skil- 
fully. "I am glad that I am welcome." 

"And late — and I was early, but I had 
my reward. I saw you flying down the 
path as if the British army itself were 
after." 

"And does thee think I should flee 
from the British army?" she smiled sud- 
denly. 

"Indeed I hope not, for they would 
surely pursue." 

"If all the army is like to the one 
soldier I have met, surely I have no cause 
to fly." 

He bowed low again. 

"Does thee know why I came here to- 
night?" Deborah was leaning against a 
gray tree-trunk ; with a gown of its color, 
she looked like a dryad. 

"To preach me a sermon on my sins ?" 

"No." She shook her head, while she 
slowly pared a leaf along its delicate 
veins, with her slender fingers. 

"To show mercy to the sinner?" 

She crushed the leaf as she suddenly 
looked up at him. "To ask a favor from 
thee." 

""A thousand, fair lady." 
1 'Tis but one." She still looked at him 
unsmilingly. "Will thee grant it?" 

"Even before it is asked." 

She shook her head. "Favors lightly 
granted are soon forgotten. I am not 
jesting. I pray thee to be grave." 

"Even like Friend Ephraim." 

"Perchance I am mistaken in thee," 
she said with disappointment in her voice. 
"But I thought—" 

"You shall not be mistaken in me," he 
said interrupting. 

She looked at him meditatively for a 
moment then went on : "The Friends 
hear that the British soldiers have moved 
nearer in their foraging expeditions and 



they are most fearful lest they come still 
nearer and molest them. We, as thee 
knows, are people of peace and take no 
sides in this unholy rebellion. I have come 
to ask thee to keep the soldiers from 
coming nearer to us." 

"But he who is not for the King must 
be against him." He spoke quietly and 
soberly. "And I know well some 
Quakers are on the rebels' side. 

"That may be true, there are unhappy 
divisions among us ; but we are most of 
us people of peace and mostly women 
are in these farmhouses. They ask thy 
protection." 

He bowed again. "But our men must 
live and how other than on the produce 
of the land?" 

"But I think if thee will restrain them 
in the due place and season, certain of 
the elders will gladly offer corn and grain 
for their sustenance. Will thee not keep 
them from our peaceful homes ?" 

"But how do you expect me to do this 
thing?" 

She looked into his eyes. "Because 
thee is one in authority. Oh, I know it 
by divers signs. Thee can do this if thee 
will." 

"It is not so easy even to one in author- 
ity," he said gravely, but flattered by her 
discernment. "It is not always possible 
to restrain men. There are some com- 
mands not easily obeyed." 

She straightened herself suddenly, her 
eyes flashed into his. "Thee an officer, 
canst speak so ! Would I were a man, I 
would make them obey me. Is not that 
thy whole duty ?" She stamped her foot. 
She stopped suddenly in her impetuous 
speech ; he too, was frowning, and this 
time in real anger. 

"Thee is but mocking me," her voice 
was softer, she smiled. "I know thee; 
that is but an excuse, thee is a determined 
man and thee does what thee will ; naught 
stands in the way of thy will — " 

"You are wise," his tone was sarcastic, 
"beyond — " 

"The short time I have known thee." 
she finished still smiling. "But this I 
know, that did thee wish to do this thing 
thee could. And so farewell," and with 
a smile that shot to its mark, she turned 
to go. 



THE SISTER 



331 



He watched her as she walked slowly, 
very slowly, but proudly away, and at 
last he called after: "Stay, come back a 
moment. Despite my will and might, I 
am but one man and can do little; but 
what I can — " 

"Thee will," she almost sprang back 
toward him with a little laugh in the 
words. Then quickly sobered. "I thank 
thee," she said with solemn intonation. 
"The blessing of God will rest upon 
thee." 

He colored with surprise at the grave 
words, it was like a benediction in a 
cathedral. "I will do what I can to keep 
the men away. No, do not go, give me 
as a reward for my favor, your company 
for a moment." 

And so she waited, leaning again 
against the tree-trunk. 

After a moment he said, "Did I not see 
a gray-coat by your side not long since?" 

"Mayhap," most unconcernedly, "I 
have many gray-coated friends." 

"And but one red-coated ?" he finished, 
and her smile twinkled out at him. "May 
the one be worth the many." 

"Perchance he will, if he can do my 
favor." Then after a moment she looked 
at him gravely. "Thee does think — " 
then she paused, "that I came hither to 
see thee." 

"No, alas, 'twas to ask a favor." 

"Thee has answered, — perchance I 
would have said — " 

A significant little laugh finished the 
words and she began anew : 

"I must not come again." 

"Oh, yes," he looked into her eyes and 
smiled steadily, "you must come again, 
lest I forget what I am to do for you." 



"Then thee does the favor for pay- 
ment"'" 

"Perhaps." 

" 'Tis a large payment, but I have paid 
all I can for to-night. I must go. Fare- 
well !" 

"May I not walk a pace with you?" 

"My drab-coated friends like not the 
red," she smiled up at him as he stood 
beside her. He stepped back with a bow 
and she walked away. Again he called 
after her. 

"I found a handkerchief in the path 
last night." 

She turned, looking down on the 
ground then up again quickly. "Per- 
haps, 'tis mine, let me see." 

"I cannot get it, 'tis against my heart," 
again he bowed low with his hand at his 
side. 

She wheeled about quickly, but these 
words came with ringing clearness over 
her shoulder. " 'Tis doubtless Friend 
Ephraim's, he carries a square most like 
a lady's." 

He laughed aloud at this, and the 
sound followed her along the path 
between the trees. 

But when she reached the edge of the 
woodland, she seated herself on a large 
stone there, and with her chin in her 
hand, looked for a long time at the west- 
ern sky. Now and then she smiled mis- 
chievously, surely not at the sunset which 
for all its glory always holds a sadness in 
its fading tints. She seemed not to hear 
the broken good-night of the birds, but 
when one rebellious baby-robin peeped 
out its last protest, she rose. 

{To be continued.) 




The Two Memorials to Theodore Parker, 
in Florence, Italy 

By KENYON WEST 



THE announcement of a centenary 
edition. of the works of Theodore 
Parker, is welcome news to 
every admirer of that strenuous 
New England thinker and reformer. 

Theodore Parker had something to say 
to the world — a ■ 
great message to 
deliver — and he said 
it earnestly, sincere- 
ly and most effec- 
tively. Therefore 
that which he left 
behind him in the 
form of written 
work has permanent 
interest and value. 

At the mere men- 
tion of Theodore 
Parker's name what 
memories of the 
strenuous days of 
Xew England Tran- 
cendentalism crowd 
the mind — memories 
of Emerson and 
Margaret Fuller, of 
Dana and Ripley, of 
the Channings, of 
I iron son Alcott, of 
many other dream- 
ers, fighters and re- 
formers, America 
will never see their like again. 

In Theodore Parker's fight against 
what he called "superstition" his great 
battle-cry was fidelity to conscience. His 
chief strength lay in the stress he placed 
upon the testimony of that "inner light" 
as a test of the validity of truth. His 
dependence was always the essential laws 
of human reason. Tie might have estab- 




Old 



lished his points by dealing gentler blows. 
But the iconoclast has not always time 
to be gentle. If he stopped always to 
display fine and delicate tact the images 
wouldn't be hurled in fragments from 
their pedestals. There was indeed much 
that was aggressive 
about Theodore 
Parker ; but there 
was also another 
side to his nature 
which we cherish 
with peculiar affec- 
tion. The old con- 
troversies are for- 
gotten. The beauty 
and purity of his 
spirit are remem- 
bered. 

An old deacon in 
his church said that 
he wasn't sure about 
some things Parker 
had said, but he was 
sure of him. "He 
preached the eternal 
verities and there 
was nothing the 
matter with his life. 
In speaking of 
some things which 
Parker wrote, an- 
other friend said : "I 
never dreamed that great things in 
religion could be made so warm and 
pleasant, so tender and appealing to the 
heart and mind." 

The mortal part of Theodore Parker 
does not rest in his native land, but in 
far-away beautiful Florence. 

Many travellers in their hurried flight 
through a city so demanding in its claims 



headstone in protestant cemetery 
at Florence 



THE TWO MEMORIALS TO THEODORE PARKER 



333 




Theodore Parker 



as Florence, neglect the Protestant ceme- 
tery. But this quiet place set apart from 
the rushing, hurrying world can easily 
prove its right to claim a large share of 
its attention. 

In all Europe and America it would 
be difficult to find a cemetery of the same 
size in which rests all that is mortal of so 
many of the great ones of this world. 
And those great ones are chiefly English 
and Americans — men and women who 
were attracted irresistibly by the glow, 
the color, the perennial charm of Italy 



and tarried there till the dread Archer 
found them. Here rest Walter Savage 
Landor, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 
Arthur Hugh Clough, Hiram Powers. 
Richard Hildreth, Frances . Trollope, 
Southwood Smith, Theodosia Trollope, 
Mrs. Holman Hunt, Tames Lorimer 
Graham, Thomas Jefferson Page and 
many others. Among these distinguished 
names is that of Theodore Parker. In 
truth if they had had their choice they 
could not have chosen a lovelier place in 
which to tarry for the last, long rest. 



334 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Monument to Theodore Parker in the Protestant 
Cemetery at Florence 



To this God's Acre, as the Germans 
would call it can much more appropriate- 
ly be applied Shelley's famous words 
about the cemetery at Rome : "It might 
make one in love with death to think that 
one should be buried in so sweet a place." 

"I am ready to die, if need be," wrote 
Theodore Parker in his Journal — 



"nothing to fear. Sorry to leave work, 
friends, wife, still concedo. To die will 

be no evil to me But I mean to live 

and not die. I laugh at the odds of nine 
to one. If that is all, I'll conquer. I have 
fought ninety-nine against one, — yes, 
nine hundred and ninety-nine against 
one, and conquered. Please God I will 



THE TWO MEMORIALS TO THEODORE PARKER 



335 



again. 

But the indomitable fighter came to 
his last battle. 

About a month before his death he 
wrote: ' 'Above all things else I have 
sought to teach the true idea of man, of 
God, of religion with its truths, its duties 
and its joys. I never fought for myself, 
nor against a private foe, but I have gone 
into the battle of the nineteenth century 
and followed the flag of humanity. Now 
I am ready to die, though conscious that 
I leave half my work undone, and much 
grain lies in my fields waiting only for 
him that gathereth sheaves. I would 
rather lay my bones with my father's and 
mother's at Lexington, and think I may, 
but will not complain if earth or sea shall 
cover them up elsewhere." 

But he finally gave up the hope of 
being buried at Lexington. A few hours 
before his death, the great iconoclast and 
reformer whispered: "There are two 
Theodore Parkers. One of them is dying 
in Florence, the other is planted in 
America." 

If he could but have lived a few more 
years he would have seen the harvest that 
sprang from the seed he and others 
sowed with so much fervor and enthu- 
siasm and unselfish industry. He would 
have seen the abolition of slavery; — the 
gradual diffusion of ideas of tolerance, of 
liberality of religious opinion, of broad 
ideas of brotherhood and charity. 

Over Theodore Parker's grave in the 
Protestant cemetery at Florence are 
growing violets, roses and fleur-de-lis. 
The monument is not the one which was 
first placed to his memory. About fifteen 
or more years ago, it was found that the 
first monument was sadly out of repair, 
both England and America responded 
most liberally to the suggestion that there 
should be a new memorial. It is note- 
worthy that John Ruskin and Matthew 
Arnold had taken especial interest in the 
plan. 

The first monument was a plain, 
brown, upright slab with the simple in- 
scription : 




Snap-shot of Cemetery showing 
Parker Memorial 

Theodore Parker, 

Born at Lexington, Massachusetts, 

United States of Americe, 

August 24, 1810. 

Died at Florence, May 10, 1860. 

A peculiarity about this inscription is 
that the Italian sculptor spelled America 
with an "e" instead of an "a."* 

The present monument to Theodore 
Parker is chaste and simple though it is 
more ornamental than the first one. 

At the top of the slab there is a fine 
medalion containing a relief portrait. 
Underneath are the significant words : 

Theodore Parker, 

The Great American Preacher, 

Born at Lexington, Massachusetts, 

United States of America, 

August 24, 1810. 

Died at Florence, Italy, 

May 10, 1860. 

His name is engraved in marble, his 
virtues in the hearts of those he helped to 
free from slavery and superstition. 

The earth of a foreign land is covering 
the dust of Theodore Parker, but his 
spirit lives in the grateful memory of his 
countrymen. 



This reminds one of the mistake made by the American stone-cutter who on the memorial 
to Margaret Fuller in Mount Auburn changed, the Italian name Ossoli into Ossili. 



Dunbar's Flirtation 



By CHARLES DREYFUSS 



ONE Sunday afternoon, early in 
May, a stiff south wind was 
blowing directly into the bay, 
at Montevideo. Two young 
men, who knew that on account of the 
roughness of the water there could be 
no rowing that day, decided to go for a 
long walk and selected the Prado as their 
destination. They had not yet passed 
the Paso del Molino, and were com- 
menting on the fine autumn weather, 
when a girlish peal of laughter attracted 
their attention to a large, open carriage 
drawn by two handsome bay horses. On 
the back seat sat two girls, and they 
heard the taller exclaim, "Que raro los 
Ingle sesT (How peculiar are the 
Englishmen.) Yet she allowed her dark 
roguish eyes to rest on the younger man ; 
and, as the carriage rolled on, he could 
see her still looking at him, silent and 
serious now. 

"That's a mighty pretty girl," he burst 
out assertively. 

"Yes," and the other laughed before 
he continued, "and those black eyes have 
bewitched you." Then he resumed, still 
amused, "She was laughing at us because 
we are walking. They can't understand 
how anybody can walk so far when there 
are cars." 

It was James Flint, the captain of the 
Rowing Club, who had just spoken. He 
was a tall, kind-hearted Scotchman, the 
senior of the other by some five years, 
and his immediate superior in the English 
bank where both were employed, he had 
taken him under his protection. Fred 
Dunbar was of average height and well 
proportioned, and as strong as the usual 
run of healthy young men of his age; 
and, as he had taken up with enthusiasm 
the sport of rowing, he proved a welcome 
acquisition to the brawny captain. But 

336 



Flint's friendship for his junior was 
jokingly ascribed to the similarity in the 
color of their hair, which was of the 
same flaming hue of brown. It was 
remarked, too, that Dunbar closely pat- 
terned the curl of his mustache, when 
finally it began to grow, after the style 
affected by Flint. 

Flint and Dunbar had been speaking 
of Miguel Portela, the vice-captain of the 
Rowing Club, before their attention was 
distracted by the unusual number of 
turnouts that had passed them. So when 
Dunbar asked eagerly who was the girl, 
Flint looked at him quizzically for a mo- 
ment before he answered drily : — 

"She is the eldest daughter of Dr. 
Munoz, one of the best known and most 
influential lawyers in the country. It is 
said that her mother wants to marry her 
to your friend Portela. By the way," 
he added significantly, "the old lady 
doesn't like Englishmen — and still less 
Americans !" 

Dunbar ignored the information and 
walked along absorbed in reflection. He 
knew that Portela viewed with disfavor 
his growing influence with the native 
members of the Club. In order to con- 
ciliate these, it had become the rule that 
the vice-captain should be a native, and 
the present incumbent was a handsome, 
black-haired giant of about Dunbar's 
age. Because of his overbearing attitude 
after his election, he had soon become 
unpopular with the English members as 
well as with his own countrymen. On 
the other hand, Dunbar, because of his 
forbearance towards what the English- 
men considered the vagaries of the 
natives, had made many friends among 
them and had trained several into good 
oarsmen. 

Finally, Flint broke the silence by 



DUNBAR'S FLIRTATION 



337 



remarking that it would soon be too cold 
for the native women to do much driving. 

"Yes," replied Dunbar regaining his 
usual spirits, "and isn't it funny to think 
of June and July as being winter. I 
can't seem to get used to it." 

The two young men laughed at the 
recollection of how hard it had been at 
first for one to believe that it was really 
Christmas or New Year, when one was 
sweltering. The manner in which they 
had been obliged to celebrate these holi- 
days brought them to the subject of the 
lack of social life in that country as con- 
trasted with what they had been ac- 
customed to at home. It was true that 
the English residents were more % liberal 
in their views ; but even they were 
obliged to conform themselves in a 
measure to the usages of the country. 
Dunbar was protesting at what he called 
the absurdity of not allowing a young 
man to walk in public with a girl, unless 
engaged to her, when they arrived at the 
long avenue of eucaliptus trees, tall and 
odorous, that led into the park. 

They walked in the direction of a 
stucco house, time-stained and unat- 
tractive, which was made to answer the 
purpose of a cafe and restaurant. Before 
it, was a gravelled terrace on which were 
a number of tables. The road passed to 
the left of the house, and there alighted 
all who came to the Prado in carriages. 
Near the other edge of the terrace, where 
it was bordered by a walk, the young men 
espied three Englishmen of their acquaint- 
ance seated at a small marble-topped table. 
They went over and one of the English- 
men remarked, "We came early to get a 
good table as we wanted to see the pretty 
girls go by. Won't you sit down ? There 
is plenty of room for all of us." 

An alert waiter brought two more 
chairs, and the five young men crowded 
around the table. With the semi-tropical 
foliage as a background, it was indeed a 
picture of animation and ever changing 
color that offered itself to the eye, with 
scarcely a tone that did not harmonize in 
the bright sunlight. Dark-eyed, black- 
haired women and girls, wearing gay and 
for the most part becoming costumes, and 
all carrying fans, walked slowly past con- 
versing in high-pitched voices. A group 



of three elegantly dressed young girls, of 
about the same age, approached chatting 
vivaciously. Their attractiveness was 
enhanced by the fresh breeze, which 
tinged their full, young cheeks a rich 
shade of pink. In the graceful, erect 
figure and almost perfect oval features 
of the one in the middle, Dunbar recog- 
nized the girl who had laughed at him. 
Her delicate complexion flushed to a 
deeper hue as she saw him sitting there, 
his eyes riveted on her face. After she 
had passed, he paid little attention to the 
conversation of his friends ; but, silent, 
holding his hat in his hand, he sat hoping 
that she would come again. He had 
almost given her up when, suddenly, he 
felt his heart give a bound. For this time 
she deliberately sought him out with her 
dark, lustrous eyes, and, as she ap- 
proached, rested them unwaveringly, yet 
without boldness, on his. 

One of the Englishmen, who had seen 
it all, cried out gaily, "Dunbar, you lucky 
old dog! that girl is trying to get up a 
drag one o with you." 

"Yes," growled Flint, who, too, had 
observed, "she has taken a fancy to his 
light hair and mustache, and his blue 
eyes. But he had better look out or the 
old dragon her mother will be after him 
if he tries to 'dragonear,' as you call it, 
her daughter." 

"Jealous, by Jove!" ejaculated the 
Englishman. "Come now, Flint, you're 
blue-eyed too, and she didn't offer to flirt 
with you," he continued banteringly. 

Flint passed over the remark and 
replied with dignity, "Well, if he wants to 
flirt, he had better choose somebody else. 
There are plenty here who will be only 
too glad of the opportunity." 

"Oh, get out, Flint !" Dunbar now 
broke in. "Can't a fellow flirt a little 
with a pretty girl without your carrying 
on so about it?" he asked laughingly. 

"I've no objections to your flirting, 
though I don't see any sense in it myself," 
Flint answered. "But do be careful with 
that girl," he admonished, "for her family 
is one of the swellest here. Besides, she 
doesn't generally throw her eyes around 
as most of them do here, and I'm aston- 
ished that she should have paid any atten- 
tion to you." 



338 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



"All right, Flint, don't be alarmed," 
another of the Englishmen now said. 
"He's only a novelty to her anyway, and 
she probably won't remember him the 
next time she sees him. Besides, they 
say Portela is going to marry her." 

They then fell to discussing Portela. 
He was the only son of a wealthy Spanish 
merchant established in Montevideo. The 
father, a coarse, ignorant man, had 
refused to allow his son to study for a 
profession — as was the fashion among 
the wealthy there — but instead had taken 
him into his business. The boy had been 
reared in idleness and had begun early to 
live dissolutely. All agreed that it was 
too bad that the girl's mother should want 
to throw her away virtually, on a roue 
like Portela. For it was no secret that 
the Senora de Munoz would condescend 
to lay aside her prejudice against foreign- 
ers in general, and especially her opposi- 
tion to the sons of natives or foreigners 
who engaged in business, in favor of the 
rich young man. 

But it was getting late and the crowd 
was beginning to thin. The five young 
men decided to return together in the 
horse car, and they walked across the 
terrace towards the path that led from it 
to the road, which they would have to 
cross. They beheld the Munoz equipage 
ready to start, and Portela, his back to 
them, standing alongside listening respect- 
fully to the Senora de Munoz. The 
daughters were evidently impatient to 
get away and the eyes of the elder rested 
anywhere but on her suitor. One of the 
Englishmen commented on the situation 
and laughed. The girl, attracted by the 
sound, lifted her eyes and met those of 
Dunbar. Again she flushed and again 
did not look displeased; and Flint, ever 
watchful, began to fear that after all 
Dunbar might be more than a "novelty" 
to her. 

Dunbar was now twenty-one years old. 
His manly appearance and good man- 
ners, consequent of his careful early 
training, won him a position in the Mon- 
tevideo branch of an English bank when, 
three years before, the manager visited 
Xew York. Owing principally to the 
rapidity with which he mastered the 
Spanish language he had been advanced 



a little faster than a number of the older 
men in the bank. This had occasioned a 
certain amount of jealousy; but, as it 
was conceded that his promotion was 
merited, the current of feeling, on the 
whole, ran in his favor. 

A few weeks after the visit to the 
Prado, Dunbar was ordered to Buenos 
Aires, where he remained all winter. 
He returned to Montevideo early in 
November. The Sunday forenoon fol- 
lowing his arrival, he was walking up 
the Calle Ituzaingo, where it faces the 
plaza, as the worshippers were pouring 
out of the church of the Matriz. Sud- 
denly he found himself face to face with 
two young ladies. As he quickly stepped 
aside to give them the wall, he noticed 
that one of them said something to the 
other which caused her to look at him, 
not unkindly he thought, and he felt sure 
that she had recognized him. She had 
grown a little taller, it seemed to him, 
and her figure, without losing its girlish 
slimness, had developed the fuller, more 
mature lines of th-e woman. She had 
become more beautiful, undoubtedly; 
and her eyes, as they flashed on his only 
for a moment, disclosed to him poten- 
tialities so great, that with an exquisite 
sensation of pain there sprung into his 
heart a greater yearning for her. 

In an instant all his brave resolutions 
were gone. Now that he had seen her 
again, the fight he had made against the 
rising passion in his heart proved of no 
avail. All of Flint's warning against the 
folly of allowing his feelings to gain the 
ascendency, was now set aside. He re- 
membered Flint's pointing out how cir- 
cumscribed by racial prejudice and nar- 
row conventionalities was the girl. He 
was but a young clerk in a bank and a 
foreigner ; and how was he to become 
acquainted with the daughter of a 
woman who moved only in the most ex- 
clusive native circles. Granting even 
that the girl had taken a fancy to him, 
was it likely that she should do a thing 
practically unheard of among the better 
class in her country and hold out against 
the wishes of her mother? Dunbar had 
applied for the temporary vacancy in the 
Buenos Aires branch of the bank, hoping 
that the absence of several months would 



DUNBAR'S FLIRTATION 



339 



cure him of what Flint termed his silly 
infatuation for a pair of black eyes. But 
his heart now told him there could be 
only one cure; and he decided to enlist 
the assistance of a native friend in the 
furtherance of the plan that began to 
take definite shape in his mind. 

Alfredo Villanueva had given up his 
idle pastimes, owing chiefly to Dunbar's 
influence, and had become an enthusiastic 
oarsman. His sister, Adela, and Isabella 
Munoz were intimate friends, he told 
Dunbar, and had asked many questions 
about the Americano. As Adela often 
visited her friend and stood on the bal- 
cony with her, Villanueva suggested to 
Dunbar that they walk past Isabela's 
home, on the opposite side of the narrow 
street. After several repetitions, Dun- 
bar was gratified in that the girl respond- 
ed to his salutation. He then ventured 
to go by alone and, though he was thus 
debarred from lifting his hat to her, she 
smiled so sweetly and so encouragingly 
it seemed to him, before she darted into 
the house, that he did not notice Portela, 
who was approaching from the opposite 
direction, until he had nearly run into 
him. Villanueva further advised Dun- 
bar to join the Club Uruguay. He also 
procured for him an invitation to the 
masked ball to be given by the club dur- 
ing Carnival. 

The night of the ball came at last. 
Dunbar, hoping for he knew not what, 
arrived early and stood watching the 
novel scene. The men were in evening 
dress, unmasked. In general the women 
wore masks and were attired in all sorts 
of fanciful costumes. Many spoke to 
him in shrill, disguised voices as they 
passed him ; some poked fun at him 
good-naturedly; two or three murmured 
terms of endearment, and one of the 
latter when he did not respond called 
him Ingles bobo (Stupid Englishman). 

Interested and amused, he joined a 
group of American naval officers. They 
commented on the case of a woman 
heavily masked who had walked alone, 
and discouraged all attempts at gallantry, 
until a well known man, high in Govern- 
ment circles, had confidently approached 
her. As one of the officers was laugh- 
ingly alluding to the eagerness with 



which she had grasped the arm that was 
offered her, Dunbar noticed that three 
female forms of about the same height, 
exquisitely gowned alike in pale blue and 
wearing dainty satin masks of the same 
shade, approached them arm in arm. 

One of them detached her arm from 
her companion's, and quickly slipped it 
into that of Dunbar. His emotion, as 
he gazed into the eyes that gleamed at 
him through the mask in an answering 
flash of recognition, was such that for 
the moment he could not stir and his 
tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of 
his mouth. But the girl gently pressed 
his arm, and he, understanding, — and 
with the officers looking after him en- 
viously — drew her away. Her bosom 
rose and fell with agitation, and he could 
hear her breath come quickly with ex- 
citement. Realizing finally that he must 
calm her, he made an effort to speak and, 
in a voice that sounded strange to his own 
ears, uttered some words to reassure 
her. 

"Oh,Senor, what have I done!" she ex- 
claimed in a tone which clearly denoted 
that her courage had failed her. 

She pressed her hand to her heart as 
if to still its tumult ; and her distress had 
the effect of recalling his self-control. 
She must have felt the sudden tension of 
the muscles of his arm, for, before he 
could say anything more to her, she 
spoke again. 

"Senor, you must not think me bold to 
have come to you in this manner," she 
resumed in a voice full of gentle dignity, 
"you appear to be a Caballero, and I feel 
certain will not give me cause to believe 
that I have been imprudent in entrusting 
myself to one who is but a stranger to 
me." 

He listened to the soft tones of her 
voice rather than to the words, and won- 
dered whether it could be true — whether 
it was not all a dream, that she was really 
speaking to him. But she had stopped 
and seemed waiting for his reply. This 
broke the spell ; and he hastened to say. 
"Senorita, you can trust to my honor." 

The simplicity with which he uttered 
these words must have impressed her; 
for, after a searching glance into his eyes 
as if for further conviction of his in- 



340 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



tegrity, she spoke to him in a voice in 
which he recognized with gladness a 
return of her composure. With a vivac- 
ity all the more charming because of the 
modesty with which it was accompanied, 
she told him how she had been able to 
come to him. 

"My mother is dancing this quadrille 
with Portela," she went on to say. "He 
was forced to ask Adelita Villanueva for 
the next dance, and she promised it to 
him although she detests him. And — 
if you care to — you may dance it with 
me." 

Hardly above a whisper were the last 
words, but to Dunbar they sounded like 
heavenly music. He now understood the 
little plot and started to thank her fer- 
vently. She made a sign to stop him; 
and he unconsciously struck a respectful 
attitude, waiting silently for what she 
had to say to him. When she spoke 
again, all trace of hesitation had vanished 
from her soft, full voice. 

"You must take me back to my friends. 
As soon as this quadrille is over, come 
to the last window in the main room fac- 
ing the plaza. I shall be there with my 
mother. Advance confidently and ask 
me to dance." 

They walked back slowly, and he 
thought that she clung a little more 
closely to his arm. He remarked on the 
throng that was present and its brilliancy. 
There were many foreign uniforms, and 
he pointed out the different naval officers 
to her. Those two with the red facing 
to their dress coats were Spaniards, 
grave and silent as they walked together ; 
the one in the uniform covered with gold 
braid, who passed just then chatting gaily 
with the woman in a white mask, was an 
Argentine ; that group joking and laugh- 
ing was composed of American and 
British officers. 

She had listened in silence; but sud- 
denly she interrupted him to whisper, 
"Will you come for me?" 

"Senorita!" he began; but she had 
deftly slipped her arm from his. A 
second later he saw her gliding away 
with her two companions. 

When he found himself before her 
again it seemed to him that hours, during 
which his mind had been a blank save for 



the vision of a lovely form whose little 
feet encased in blue dancing slippers had 
occasionally peeped from beneath the 
folds of a blue skirt, — that hours without 
number had elapsed since she had left 
him. She pretended not to notice his 
approach; but when he requested the 
honor of the next dance with her, she 
quickly jumped up, and turning to her 
amazed mother said in a careless tone 
that she was going to dance with the 
Americano to see what it was like. As 
he led her away to the soft strains of a 
Waldteuffel walse, one arm encircling 
her waist, and her little white-gloved 
hand resting in his, he felt as if he were 
dancing on air. He did not speak, and 
was seemingly content with the enjoy- 
ment of the moment; but presently she 
asked him to promenade with her as she 
wished to talk with him. 

She asked him many questions about 
his country. She had often heard about 
New York, she told him, of its being a 
huge city with high houses and very 
noisy. She would prefer Paris, she 
thought. Her mother did not like 
Americans for they had a bad name and 
were very grasping. He started to 
defend his countrymen, and she retorted 
playfully that she did not believe there 
was one good American. 

"Why, just look at what you did to 
poor Portela," she continued in the same 
tone, "he says that you are responsible 
for his defeat at the last election of the 
Club de Re gat as." 

"I plead guilty," he answered laugh- 
ingly. "It was I nominated Villanueva; 
but all your countrymen voted for him." 

"Yes, Senor," she rejoined more kind- 
ly, "Alfredo told us all about it. My 
mother was very angry, but my father 
said you were right. You know he does 
not like Portela." 

This was said very simply, yet it 
caused Dunbar to give a start and to 
look intently at the girl. Her mask 
effectually concealed her features, and, 
as she looked straight in front of her, he 
was obliged to remain in ignorance for 
the time being of what she had wished 
to convey by the words ; for he was cer- 
tain that she had not spoken them idly. 
He felt emboldened, however, to broach 



DUNBAR'S FLIRT ATfON 



341 



the subject of the grand ball that was to 
be given next winter by the Club whose 
guests they now were. 

"It will be different then," he said, 
"for you will not be masked." And by 
sudden inspiration he added eagerly, 
"But you will allow Villanueva to in- 
troduce me to you," and remained 
breathless awaiting her answer. 

She appeared to be thinking. Sud- 
denly she made a curtsy, then laughed 
merrily as she said, "Yes, Senor Fred- 
erico Dunbar must be presented to 
Senorita Isabela Munoz," and she bowed 
in mock gravity. Then she resumed 
more seriously, "But what would my 
mother say !" 

He too had started to laugh. Yet, her 
last words brought to him a realization 
of how difficult was her position; thus, 
when he spoke again, there was a note of 
wistfulness in his voice. "I will not at- 
tend that ball, Senorita," he said, "if 
my doing so shall compromise you in the 
least. If on the other hand you can see 
no reason why I should stay away, I will 
come. To see you, even though I could 
not speak to you, would be ample for 
me." 

She listened pensively it seemed to 
him. Presently she replied, and every 
word came distinctly as she slowly said, 
"Senor, I desire that you come to the 
ball." 

"Oh, Senorita!" he cried, his face 
beaming with joy, "how good you are ; 
how happy you have made me!" He 
hesitated, then resumed, "May I ask you 
to listen to something I wish to say to 
you?" 

She nodded in assent. He tried to 
look into her eyes but again she gazed 
straight before her. "Senorita — " he 
began, and stopped. Still she said 
nothing. But he knew he must speak to 
her now ; and, in a voice made firmer by 
sudden resolve, he broached the subject 
that for weeks had been uppermost in his 
mind. 

"I love you, Senorita." He spoke 
quickly in a low voice that vibrated as it 
responded more acutely to the passion 
which urged him on. "I have loved vou 
since the first time I saw you, that Sun- 
day when you laughed at me. They told 



me that you were promised to Portela, 
and I tried hard at first to conquer the 
great desire of my heart. But my efforts 
were futile. Senorita, I know that you 
do not love him. Oh, tell me — promise me 
that you will not let them force you into 
a union so contrary to your inclinations, 
so little in accord with what you deserve. 
I know that I, also, am unworthy of you 
— but I have no right to speak to you like 
this—" 

She had raised her hand ; and he 
stopped short, alarmed at his own 
presumption. She began to speak, but in 
a voice so low and sad that he feared his 
words had distressed her. 

"I pray you, Senor, do not tell me any 
more, or you will make me very un- 
happy." Yet, at her next words, the tone 
of depression gradually melted from her 
young voice and left an accent of dreamy 
tenderness. "You have spoken like an 
honorable man, Senor ; but you must say 
no more — now. I may listen to you, 
perhaps, when I meet you here again 
next winter. And yet, I do not know — " 

She spoke these last words musingly, 
as if she looked into the future and was 
puzzled by what she saw there. She 
finished with a sigh so low yet so linger- 
ing, that it seemed to him as if a gentle 
breath of summer air fluttered fitfully in 
a garden of fragrant blossoms. Her 
eyes were turned to his, and he looked 
into them trying to fathom her soul. 
Unconscious at first that her visage was 
concealed, he showed how keen was his 
disappointment as, gradually, he realized 
that her face was covered. His eyes 
must have told her of their great longing, 
for presently she announced to him that 
after the next dance she and her friends 
would unmask. 

"And if you wish to," she added arch- 
ly, "you may bow to us if you happen to 
pass where we are seated." 

She interrupted his protestations of 
delight to warn him to be circumspect. 
"See, there is my mother," she added, 
"and seated with her is Portela. They 
will be very angry because I have been 
away so long." 

"I am so sorry — " he began ; but she 
interposed again to say, "My father is 
there also." 



342 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



He remembered her previous reference 
to her father. But there was no time for 
conjecture, for she whispered directly, 
'Take me to where he is seated." 

As she took the chair from which her 
father had arisen, Dunbar gravely 
thanked her. He then bowed to Dr. 
Munoz, who, smiling pleasantly, ex- 
pressed in a few words his appreciation 
of the courtesy shown to his daughter. 
The Senora, however, merely stared at 
him. And Portela, after having looked 
scrutinizingly at the girl, scowled and 
churlishly enough returned his nod. 
Then, after a last glance at Isabela, Dun- 
bar started to walk away. Opportunely, 
however, Villanueva emerged from the 
crowd and, taking him by the arm, led 
him to where Dr. Munoz was standing 
and introduced him. He shook Dunbar 
warmly by the hand and turned laughing- 
ly to his daughter. 

"Well, Isabela," he said in a kindly 
bantering tone, "now that the gentleman 
knows who you are, why not take off 
your mask, and let him see what you look 
like. Ah, you are afraid!" and he 
laughed again. 

For she had shaken her head. Dunbar 
implored with his eyes; but she had 
promised her two friends not to unmask 
until they did, she explained. She held 
out her hand to him, nevertheless ; and, 
as ever so gently she returned his pres- 
sure, he could see the little ears that 
peeped from the shelter of entrancingly 
wayward ringlets, turn from a delicious 
pink to a rich, deep shade of red. Next 
he was presented to the Senora de 
Munoz. She bowed coldly, and imme- 
diately resumed her conversation with 
Portela. 

Dr. Munoz now asked Dunbar to ac- 
company him to the smoking room. As 
they walked away, Dunbar looked back 
and saw Villanueva go off with the girl; 
and Portela turn to the Senora and 
gesticulate excitedly. And later, when 
she was ready to go to her carriage, 
Isabella, now unmasked and looking 
more radiantly beautiful than ever to 
him, accepted Dunbar's escort, and left 
Portela standing, looking after them, his 
black mustache fairly bristling with his 
indignation. 



The principal topic of gossip for the 
next few weeks was Dunbar's flirtation 
with Isabela Munoz. That she had gone 
too far and had decidedly compromised 
herself, was the consensus of opinion. 
Few, however, believed that Dunbar 
would dare go any farther ; and even 
these had no doubt that, in the end, the 
girl would fail to hold cut against the 
wishes of her mother. Thus matters 
stood when, one afternoon several weeks 
after the ball, Portela appeared at the 
boat house. This was the first time he 
had come since the election of Villanueva 
as vice-captain. 

His absence had at first caused Flint 
some anxiety, for he wanted him to row 
in the four-oared race against Buenos 
Aires; but Villanueva, though a year 
younger and lighter in weight, had 
proved a satisfactory substitute. Flint 
and his crew had just lowered their shell 
into the water, and Dunbar had already 
taken his place in the bow. Portela came 
down to the float and called Flint aside ; 
and, after a few minutes conversation, 
went away again without noticing any of 
the other men. 

Villanueva, the irrepressible, turned to 
Dunbar and grinned, then he shouted, 
"Che, Portela, what is the price of 
porotos (beans) to-day?" A roar of 
laughter from all present greeted this 
sally, for it was known that Portela was 
very sensitive on the score of his father's 
business. Flint chuckled, too ; but he 
made a sign as if entreating silence. 

"Old Stick-in-the-mud there (Flint 
had a way of nicknaming the natives) 
wants to stroke one of the eights in the 
regatta," he said as he got into the boat, 
"and we mustn't frighten him away." 

"That's right, Flint," Dunbar respond- 
ed, "he will just come in handy for that 
other eight." 

That evening, however, when he and 
other members of the club met in the rear 
room of the Almacen (grocery and liquor 
shop) in which they usually congregated, 
Dunbar began to wonder why Portela 
should be so anxious to row in the eight- 
oared race. And the next day, after 
Flint, who had had another interview 
with Portela, told them how the crews 
were to be made up, he spoke to Vil- 



DUNBAR'S FLIRTATION 



343 



lanueva, with whom he was walking, of 
his misgivings. 

"I wonder what he's up to now," he 
said musingly. 

"He probably wants to compadrear," 
(colloquial for show off), Villanueva re- 
plied. 

A few evenings later, as the two young 
men were again walking up the Calle 18 
de Julio, Villanueva curtly announced to 
Dunbar that he had some bad news for 
him. The other gave a start and looked 
enquiringly at his friend. 

"Adelita told me after dinner that she 
had seen Isabela this afternoon. It seems 
that Portela is now allowed to call on 
her." 

This as Dunbar knew was almost 
tantamount to an engagement. He was 
silent for a moment, then he asked 
huskily, "Has she accepted him?" 

"By no means," the other answered, 
"and she says that rather than marry him 
she will enter a convent." 

"But," faltered Dunbar, "can she not 
appeal to her father?" 

"She has. He promised to speak to 
her mother; but just now he is so con- 
cerned about that threatened revolution, 
that his whole mind is given to politics." 

"And I presume the Senora is taking 
full advantage of this circumstance." 

"Exactly !" rejoined Villanueva. "She 
has Isabela all to herself, since the doctor 
passes most of his time at the Govern- 
ment House. Adelita says that Isabela, 
who is her father's favorite, is doing all 
she can to delay matters. If she can only 
get him to act, she feels certain he will 
not allow a man she does not want to be 
forced upon her." 

"Yes, but before he realizes what has 
taken place, the vieja (old lady) will have 
pestered Isabela into becoming engaged 
to Portela," Dunbar said bitterly. 

"That shows how well you know 
Isabela !" his companion exclaimed. 
Then he resumed impatiently, "Isabela, 
unless she should change her mind of her 
own accord, is not going to be married to 
Portela." After a pause he continued 
more slowly, "Adelita thinks, if it comes 
to the worst, she will take matters into 
her own hands and trust to her father's 
magnanimity. You know, with us, a girl 



can compromise herself very easily." 

Dunbar did not at once realize the 
significance of the last words. He said 
hasta manana to Villanueva, and slowly 
walked to his home. He pondered over 
what he had heard, and concluded there 
must be some bearing in Portela's evident 
anxiety to win the race to his courtship 
of Isabela. Flint had told them that 
Portela at first had refused to take in his 
crew any of the men who were to row in 
the international race, and finally had 
consented to accept one only, even after 
it had been pointed out to him how unfair 
it would be for seven fresh men to be in 
one of the boats against five in the other. 
Dunbar's thoughts were still occupied 
with the same question one afternoon 
that he stood in the doorway of a cigar 
shop on Calle Ituzaingo. He felt sure 
that the girl would not allow Portela's 
success with her to depend on the issue 
of the race. Just as he had come to this 
conclusion he lifted his eyes and saw her 
coming up the street. As she returned 
his salutation, she smiled in a manner so 
reassuring that a feeling of renewed hope 
fluttered in his breast. Yet, a few after- 
noons Wer, when she went by without 
apparently noticing him, his dejection 
was almost alleviated by the thought that 
at last it was all over. After she had 
passed, he recalled that something soft 
had struck his hand while he was gazing 
at her. Looking down, he saw a flower 
lying at his feet ; and this raised his 
spirits a little. But the recollection that 
she had not appeared in the least down- 
cast, in fact had been chatting blithely 
with her friend, made htm bitter again, 
and he began to feel resentful that she 
should have noticed him at all. 

At this juncture the natural buoyancy 
of his disposition served him well ; for it 
brought to his mind a realization of how 
unjust were his inferences, even in the 
face of the constant rumors that Portela 
was her accepted suitor. Fortunately for 
him, too, his thoughts were busy with the 
coming regatta. His flirtation at the 
masked ball was almost forgotten ; and, 
to those who were not among his few 
intimates, he showed no sign of the per- 
turbation to which his mind was being 
subjected. As for Flint, he was so full 



344 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



of the preparations for the regatta, that 
he had set aside all thoughts of Dunbar 
except as the bow oar who was to form 
part of his crew in the four and again in 
the eight. 

The day of the regatta dawned bright 
and clear. The members of the club were 
in high spirits, for what little wind there 
was promised not to interfere with their 
sport. One of the largest of the river 
steamers, the "Eolo," which had been 
provided for the entertainment of their 
guests, was anchored opposite a 
Uruguayan gunboat, and the finishing 
line was to be between the two. Both 
vessels were crowded with spectators that 
comprised the best of the native society 
and the British Colony. Many ladies 
graced the occasion with their presence, 
and their gay and attractive costumes 
gave a flash of color that lent a peculiar 
charm to the scene. 

The international race had been rowed, 
and won by the Montevideans after a 
hard struggle. After several minor races 
had intervened, the great event of the 
day was to take place. It was to be the 
first race in eight-oared shells that had 
ever been rowed on the River Plate. 
Although the two crews were made up 
entirely of members of the club, and each 
was composed of natives and foreigners" 
in about equal proportions, there was 
manifested a keen spirit of rivalry, which 
had been communicated to the spectators. 

At last two boats appeared in the dis- 
tance looking like giant spiders. On they 
came abreast, the oars glistening in the 
sunlight at every stroke. The red flag 
now pulled ahead a little and seemed to 
be gaining steadily. But suddenly the 
blue flag caught up with it, then passed it 
and shot out well in advance. The blue 
continued to gain; and, before it had 
crossed the finishing line at least two 
lengths ahead of the other, there arose 
a tremendous shout of "Bravo, bravo 



Flint!" Portela seeing himself hope- 
lessly beaten must have given orders to 
his coxswain to steer him alongside the 
"Eolo," for he did not keep on his course. 
Flint had turned and was leisurely row- 
ing back, when there were cries for him 
to come alongside also. His men being 
eager for a closer view of the flashing 
eyes that were disposed to look on them 
with approval, he decided to row over 
and take a position astern of Portela. 

As the shell rose and fell with the sur- 
face of the water, Dunbar turned and 
saw Portela gazing up with a look of 
confident expectation on his face. He 
immediately glanced in the same direction 
and saw Isabela. Next to her stood her 
mother speaking to her earnestly and 
pressing a flower into her hand. To Dun- 
bar the suspense of the moment became 
agonizing, for he knew that if she threw 
the flower to Portela she would publicly 
acknowledge that she had accepted him, 
in the eyes of all. 

"What's the matter, bow, are you 
asleep?" suddenly crashed on his ears. 

He mechanically put his oar in the 
water, but missed the stroke and 
splashed. "Oh, if she will only not throw 
it !" he repeated to himself ; when "Time 
there, bow," greeted his senses. 

He paid no attention for she was look- 
ing at him now, despairingly he thought. 
Her face was very pale and her lips were 
set. All else faded from his sight; and 
his mind ceased to act save for the one 
thought, the one desire, that a little longer 
respite be granted him. Suddenly his 
heart gave a great thump and stood still. 
She had thrown the flower. Villanueva, 
who had turned to see what was the mat- 
ter, quickly passed a word to Flint. And 
as the rest of the crew backed water, 
Dunbar, who had cried out with joy, put 
out his hand to grasp the symbol of her 
love, white and pure, which came flutter- 
ing towards him. 




Old Cranford 



By LOUISE ANDREWS 



AS I have a pleasing confidence in 
my ability to meet emergencies, 
and, in fact, consider a certain 
amount of uncertainty highly 
desirable, it was as a matter of form 
merely, that I stopped at the general 
station and made in- 
quiries about Knuts- 
ford. 

"Knutsford, Knuts- 
ford?" repeated the 
thoughtful official, 
"yes, there is such a 
place, isn't there ? 
But it is not a holi- 
day place, Miss, is 
it ?" 

"No," I agreed, 
"but I wish to go 
there and see the 
place." 

"It is some other 
place you have in 
mind, isn't it?" de- 
clared the railway 
man. I assured him 
that it was not. 

"Yes, Miss, than- 
kyou, at the book- 
ing office of the 
Cheshire Line, they 
will give you in- 
formation, won't 
they, about trains to 

Knutsford? But 

there is nothing 
there T 

On leaving the station, I applied to an 
extremely tall and trim officer, who gave 
me exact directions how to reach the said 
booking office, some seven or eight 
minutes' walk distant. Now, I am very 
careful, always, not to make any hap- 
hazard statements, when I feel that one 



Bas-relief of Mrs. 
Tower, 



has a right to expect facts, and so I will 
not pretend to know how many quarters 
the Cathedral chimed before I dropped 
upon a bench at the Northgate Station. 
As I look back upon the extraordinary 
length of that Bobby's legs, I feel certain 
he gave me the dis- 
tance to the best of 
his judgment and 
experience, but I 
have made a mem- 
ory note to here- 
after select a short, 
stout officer for 
questions of dis- 
tance. 
\ When I had taken 

the edge off of my 
fatigue and my tem- 
per, I interviewed 
the ticket clerk, who 
informed me that 
there were trains to 
Knutsford on that 
line. It was twenty- 
four miles to Knuts- 
ford. No, he did not 
know whether there 
were any hotels or 
inns there ; if there 
was an Angel Hotel 
there once, it was 
probably there now 
(a perfectly safe 
Gaskell on Memorial supposition concern- 
Knutsford ing any village inn ) , 

"but the safest thing, 
Ma'am, would be to write the station- 
master and wait for a reply if you think 
of stopping over night there ; that would 
be the safest, wouldn't it?" 

I said I would consider the station- 
master. 

"Than-kyou," said he. And I made 

345 




346 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



my way to the platform stationer. 

"Have you any book or guide to 
Knutsford?" I inquired. 

"No mem," said the stationer, with the 
pitying smile one naturally bestows upon 
"foreigners" who ask absurd questions. 

"Do you know anything about Knuts- 
ford," I persisted, "do you know any- 
thing of interest there?" 

"Oh yes, mem," — the man positively 
glowed with brilliancy, — "Oh yes, mem, 
the County Jail is at Knutsford. ..." I 
fled before the coming "than-kyou." 



termingling of fact and fiction that I had 
looked forward, so intently, to visiting, 
not Knutsford for itself, but that I might 
find the heart of Cranford. 

In that Story-land, distinction, like 
comparison, is odious; all is alike real; 
story-teller and story-people alike lived 
and still live : "Life in a County Town" 
was created from life itself, not mir- 
rored, and Cranford lovers bestow their 
interest, if not their affection, impartially 
upon the rector's daughters, Mrs. Gas- 
kell, Lady Glenmire and Captain Brown. 




Chelford Road, Knut 



>rd. "Darkness Lane/' of Cranford 



Yet the only disturbing thought about 
this pilgrimage had been set at rest. I 
had feared that there would be so great a 
company of pilgrims, I should not be able 
to linger at the Vicarage, the scene of 
poor Peter's last prank, to wander along 
Darkness Lane in the reminiscent spirit 
of an evening with Mrs. Forrester, nor 
to stray about the "Smaller Hearth" 
where tradition has it the child Elizabeth 
often took refuge under the gorse bushes 
to hide her tears of loneliness. 

It was with mind given over to this in- 



However, let that be as it may be, as I 
started out to say, I was quite convinced 
by this time, that any indulgence in sen- 
timent on my part, would not be curtailed 
by the press of an unsympathetic throng. 

Knutsford, — and I write the name 
with regret that not only the County, but 
the little village itself, has become in- 
different to its origin, and allowed the 
distinguishing mark of its antiquity to be 
dropped in the banishment of the initial 
letter from pronounciation. 

Fifty years after the death of King 



OLD CRANFORD 



347 



Canute, the village is mentioned in 
Domesday, as Cunetes-ford, a name 
probably bestowed when Canute and his 
army marched through Cheshire; — 
Knutsford lies on either side and above 
the railway which runs through the val- 
ley. At the left are most inviting 
meadows, hills and woods, while to the 
right are the two village streets — Bottom 
and Top — King and Princess Streets 
respectively. 

With the Angel Hotel in mind I take 
my way between the old-time houses and 



polished royal bed with its hangings still 
royal, though aged by more than three- 
quarters of a century. And, Desecra- 
tion ! a pair of very large-size dusty 
boots were plainly visible beneath the 
counterpane. 

After my restful lunch, a neat little 
maid took me to the Assembly Rooms, 
although somewhat haltingly as I would 
stop here and there to admire the oak- 
staircase, settles and paneled wainscoting 
which lend such a distinguished air to 
the entrance hall, and then the many 




Humbug cottage, Loyt woods, Knutsford 



swinging signs of Princess Street, but 
before I reach the Angel I recall that it 
was at the George where the Assemblies 
were held, where Sig. Brunoni enter- 
tained, and pleasantest of all, where Mr. 
Peter put an end to the Hoggins-Jamie- 
son feud for ever; and thereupon I 
decided to lunch at the Royal George, 
"royal" because Queen Victoria, when a 
mere Princess, once visited there. In- 
deed, she passed the night there. I know 
the very number of the room and I sat in 
the window seat and viewed the much 



carved cabinets, chests and hautboys, 
with their display of old plate and china, 
claimed attention. 

The Ballroom, the little maid regretted 
it very much, but the Ballroom was not 
looking very smart. A wedding party 
had made merry there but the night be- 
fore, and rugs and cushions had been 
taken out, to clear away the confetti 
which still lay in drifts about the floor. 
What think you the Cranford ladies 
would have said of such doings? 

The Assembly Rooms have long since 



348 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



lost the dilapidated appearance of Sig. 
Brunoni's day and are dainty and gay in 
white and gold with crimson hangings. 

Leaving the George, I took my way up 
the Courtyard to the Top, for the George, 
you remember, was ''only twenty yards 
distant" from the house in which the 
small dining-room-parlor once served as 
Miss Matty's Tea-shop. It is still quite 
proper and genteel looking, despite the 
fact that one must now study "cabalistic 
inscriptions" on odoriferous phials for 
these have displaced tea-chest and can- 
isters. 

There I listened to tales of old Knuts- 
ford while a hostler at the George made 
ready a trap that I might see the pleas- 
ant ways and places, for Cranford coun- 
try has beautiful walks and drives, an- 
cient cottages and stately halls. 

But the stately halls, while adding 
breadth and depth are distinctly in the 
framing and not in the picture of Cran- 
ford and I had no mind to meddle with 
them. 

The delicate humor of Mrs. Gaskell's 
reference to the gentry's place in Cran- 
ford life, is too perfect to be marred by 
an alien word : "The Cranford people 
respected themselves too much and were 
too grateful to the aristocracy, who were 
so kind as to live near the town, ever to 
disgrace their bringing up by being dis- 
honest or immoral." 

I should judge the old town has not 
changed much ; it certainly gives the im- 
pression that it thinks very well of itself. 
The late King, when Prince of Wales, 
patronized the May festivities and now, 
once a year, people flock from all parts to 
attend the "Royal" May Festival, the 
finest May-day observance in all England. 
Many a relic of "Cranford" is cherished 
by the May-day Committee, of which, not 
the least is the Sedan chair. 

As there are almost no occupations 
open to the inhabitants, it would seem as 
if there must still be much "elegant 
economy" practiced among the gentlefolk. 

One trait presented itself so conspicu- 
ously that I decided it was a character- 
istic of the town. Each shop-keeper at- 
tends strictly to his own business and has 
no knowledge of his neighbour's, indeed 
I think he is mostly oblivious that he. has 



neighbours. If the article you require is 
in his stock, he feels it his duty to allow 
you to purchase ; if it is not, the matter 
is at an end, so far as he is concerned. He 
is not indifferent, he is simply ignorant as 
to whether there is any other shop in the 
place where there is a possibility even of 
purchasing that article ; and I can testify 
that after some half-dozen futile trips 
from Top to Bottom — from Bottom to 
Top, only to find the shop next door rich 
in the thing sought for, requires much 
Cranford gentility to refrain from some 
expression of feeling in the presence of 
tradespeople. It has one saving grace, at 
least, it has not acquired the Chester 
"than-kyou" so provocative of less happy 
words in times of adversity. 

But while I have been searching the 
shops the trap has been waiting at the 
George. The driver, if chary of words 
and not of over-exuberant temperament, 
knows the beauties of this neighbourhood 
and we drive here and there, over heath 
and through dingle ; beside the glistening 
mere and then winding through w r oody 
lanes, or beneath avenues of stately oaks 
and beech trees, now and again stumbling 
upon a cottage, half concealed by its over- 
hanging eaves of thatch, so placid in 
exterior that the building date of three or 
four centuries ago makes no impression, 
it may as well have been finished at the 
creation. 

Nothing need be prettier on this soft 
hazy afternoon in June than the green 
and flowery prospect through which our 
road leads to Mobberly. This is the home 
of the Holland family, Mrs. Gaskell's an- 
cestors ; and also of the Autrobus 
family from whom came the honored 
mother of our poet of Stoke-Poges. 
Somewhat further on the road slips 
down into a shallow green basin, where 
for two centuries and more a forge has 
stood and just beyond an old mill, over- 
hung by majestic trees ; leaving the trap 
I am quite content to sit here at the foot 
of the flagged path that leads up to 
"Wordley." Here, at Wordley, Mr. 
Holbrook lived, you will remember; but 
Mr. Holbrook, poor imprudent man, 
went to Paris for a fortnight's visit. No 
one, who has made acquaintance with 
that true gentleman and lover, but as- 



OLD CRANFORD 



349 




Miss Mattie's Tea Shop, Cranford 



suredly feels with Miss Pole, "Paris has 
much to answer for, if it killed Cousin 
Thomas." 

But before Mr. Holbrook was known 
in the Sandlebridge house, it was the 
maiden home of Mrs. Gaskell's mother. 
The author of Cranford never lived here, 
for Elizabeth Stevenson was born in 
Chelsea, and losing her mother when 
only a few weeks old, was sent to her 
mother's sister at "Heathside," Knuts- 
ford. where she lived until, at fifteen, 
she went away to school at Stratford-on- 



Avon. In 1832 Miss Stevenson was mar- 
ried in the Parish Church at Knutsford 
to the Rev. William Gaskell, the minister 
of Cross Street Chapel, Manchester, and 
thereafter made her home in that city. 

Miss Gaskell still lives in the old 
homestead in Plymouth Grove, where 
her mother wrote the most of her stories 
and where she entertained Carlyle, Char- 
lotte Bronte and many literary friends 
of that day. 

Yet throughout her life. Mrs. Gaskell's 
intimate connection with Knutsford was 



350 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



«ft 




Princess Street, Knutsford, the "High Street" of Cranford 



never broken and in death she rests 
in the graveyard of the old Brook Street 
Chapel. This ancient Chapel was erected 
in 1688 and in location and architecture, 
if the latter word may be applied to such 
a modest structure, suggests that it did 
not care to be conspicuous as a house of 
worship in those troublous days of 
religious differences. The Chapel was 
not licensed to solemnize marriages until 
about the middle of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, which accounts for the marriage of 
the daughter of a dissenting minister to 
a Unitarian divine, taking place in the 
parish church. 

Resting in the pleasant gardens at 
Sandlebridge, my mind goes far afield, 
reverting, unbidden, to the interesting, 
the lovable, the amusing characters 
which the gifted daughter of this house 
has introduced to us. I hardly note these 
flitting fancies until Miss Galindo comes 
to mind with the delightfully frank 
opinion on Dissenters, which Miss Gas- 
kell, with gentle satire, gives her the op- 
portunity to repeat : " 'A Babtist baker !' 
I exclaimed. I had never seen a Dis- 



senter to my knowledge; but, having 
always heard them spoken of with hor- 
ror, I looked upon them almost as 
rhinoceroses. I wanted to see a live Dis- 
senter, I believe, and yet I wished it were 
over. I was almost surprised when I 
heard that any of them were engaged in 
such peaceful occupations as baking." I 
should be quite certain that Miss Galindo 
was a native of Cranford, but for the 
improbability that one village could ever 
have brought forth both Miss Jenkins 
and Lady Ludlow's friend. 

Into this pleasant retrospect there will 
obtrude a thought of that one disfigura- 
tion, but alas, an insurmountable dis- 
figuration, which has destroyed the sym- 
metry of old-world Knutsford. A 
Memorial Tower erected to the author 
of "Cranford" rises far above the roofs 
and is conspicuous from every point. 
Within the tower or under its shelter is 
a cafe, a bar-room and a garage. Any- 
thing more incongruous to honor the 
memory of that gentlebred and modest 
lady can hardly be imagined. Neither 
the inscription upon the walls, not even 



OLD CRANFORD 



351 



the really fine medallion by D'Orsi can 
make this combination of sentiment and 
utility a fitting memorial to the artist 
who drew so admirably from heart and 
brain the ladies of Cranford, with whom 
ostentation was always vulgar. 

The slanting shadows of the setting 
sun told us some time ago that we had 
spent the day and now the soft, sweet 
notes of songbirds, the distant lowing of 
the cattle, bid us goodnight, as we turn 
back to Knutsford. 



And once again we find that the calm 
atmosphere of immutability within the 
George is quite reassuring and no 
questioning nor doubt disturbs my en- 
joyment of the well-served dinner. By 
ten o'clock, the accepted Cranford time, 
I have closed my eyes on aged bed-posts, 
chest and dresser (even upon Miss 
Jenkins, who will flit in and out in her 
helmet hat) and I hear only the creak- 
ing silence which falls when all a county 
town is fast asleep. 




Unitarian Chapel, Knutsford 



A Practical Joke 

By ROLAND W. FLETCHER 



MY cousin Lew Wilkins and I 
sat sweltering on the veranda 
one hot afternoon last June, 
too languid to move or speak; 
the humidity of the atmosphere was in- 
tense and the thermometer registered 
eighty-nine degrees in the shade. As we 
listlessly whiled away the time, Lew in 
a hammock and I in a cane chair, supper- 
time approached, heralded by the blow- 
ing of whistles, and the homeward tramp 
of street laborers, among whom were a 
number of Italians, chattering loudly and 
incessantly in their mother-tongue, as 
they passed. 

My cousin closed his eyes, and remain- 
ed as in a trance for a moment, and then 
abruptly ejaculated, "By George! Do 
you know what that reminds me of?" 

"No, what?" I asked, nonchalantly. 

"Why," he replied, "the excited gib- 
berish of those Italians, reminds me of 
an adventure I had on the island of 
Santo Domingo. When I closed my eyes 
a moment ago, it seemed as if I had been 
transplanted to that very same island 
amid chattering throngs of Spaniards. 
Would you like to hear the story?" 

"Well," I replied doubtfully, "but see 
to it, that it is a good one." 

"All right," resumed Lew, "I agree to 
the condition." 

"About seven years ago, after serving 
as a boatswain's mate on board S.S. 
Minia, the British cable-ship having 
charge of the Canadian side of the 
Trans- Atlantic cable, I received as you 
probably know, first officer's papers, 
which hold good on any vessel in the 
British merchant marine, excepting, of 
course, a first-class passenger steamer. 

"Well, my first voyage in the capacity 
of first mate, was accomplished on the 
barkentine Coral Leaf, which hailed 

352 



from St. John, N. B., with a cargo of 
deal, bound for the Port of Spain, Trin- 
idad. Having discharged our cargo we 
set sail for Santo Domingo, there to load 
sugar for New York, or if not, to await 
further orders. We anchored off Santo 
Domingo city, and put the captain ashore 
to receive special instructions from our 
agent there. This done, we weighed 
anchor, and sailed for Macoris about 
forty miles away, and, as the island is in 
the trade winds, we had a hard beat up 
the coast, with a heavy sea, and a head 
wind. As soon as we hove in sight, a 
tug left the harbor, if it deserves to be 
called harbor, and ere long a pompous 
colored gentleman climbed our rope lad- 
der and demanded, in Spanish, to see the 
captain. Our visitor presented a comical 
appearance, though he bore the dis- 
tinguished title of revenue officer of the 
port, and jealously guarded the interests 
of Macoris, by making it his duty to see 
that no goods were smuggled therein. 
This dusky officer was of splendid 
physique and was decked out in white 
duck, with a sword and revolver in his 
belt. He was well known as Rinaldo to 
some of the crew who had previously 
visited Macoris and was the innocent ob- 
ject of their cruel jokes. 

"After loading the sugar, which took 
two days, one of the sailors became en- 
gaged in an argument with Rinaldo, by 
indicating that the revenue officer was a 
fool. Rinaldo stood with his back to 
the taffrail, and in a great rage drew his 
sword. The seaman in self-defense 
struck him, and over he went with a yell. 
I was in the cabin at the time, but rushed 
on deck ordering the boat to be lowered, 
and ere long Rinaldo, very crestfallen 
indeed, was safe on board. He was very 
grateful to me, and before long I had 



A PRACTICAL JOKE 



353 



reason to appreciate his gratitude. 

"The next day I decided to have my 
hair cut as it had not been touched since 
we left St. John and having no Domingan 

money, I asked Captain W to lend me 

an amount sufficient to have both a shave 
and a hair cut, and he tendered me a 
piece about the size of an American or 
Canadian quarter. Although I knew 
only three or four words of Spanish, 1 
had confidence in my ability to make 
myself understood. 

"Accordingly, I left the vessel and pro- 
ceeded along the flat, crooked streets, 
with their two-story white-washed affairs, 
until the harbor and shipping had 
entirely disappeared from view. All 
about me jostling and pushing were 
street venders chattering in Spanish, half 
naked negro boys, and greasy, foul 
smelling men, with huge knives in their 
belts. The street singers screeched forth 
songs to the accompaniment of guitars 
and begged for money. 

"Finally, I sauntered into a small shop 
situated in an alley, which boasted two 
wooden barber chairs, and by means of 
sundry motions and gestures, I acquaint- 
ed the proprietor with my desire. He 
was a little man with a big moustache, 
and he rattled off a lot of Spanish only 
one word of which I understood, and 
that was Americano. From this, I judged 
that he took me for an American ere I 
uttered a word of English, although I am 
a Canadian by birth. However, he gave 
me a good clean shave, and a neat hair 
cut, and as I took my hat to leave I 
tendered him the coin which Captain 

W had given me, and without 

another thought of it, moved away. To 
my astonishment an expression of an- 
noyance crept over his face and mutter- 
ing in Spanish he stepped in my way. 
From his gestures and the scowl on his 
face, I gathered that he wanted more 
money. A thought dawned on me; 

could this be one of Captain W 's 

jokes ? Impossible ; surely the captain, 
however much he loved a practical joke, 
would not suffer his mate to be in danger 
in a strange city. 

"With determination, I turned to the 
barber and with quiet gestures explained 
that he possessed all my money. I then 



moved to the door, but again the little- 
fellow barred my exit, and again J ex- 
plained, quietly, but he stolidly main- 
tained his position. I was now angry, 
and determined to try a new method. I 
explained by gesture that all my money 
was in a vessel down at the harbor, and 
that, with his permission, I would go and 
return with a sufficient sum. Either he 
would not, or could not understand, for 
he placed himself before the door with 
an open razor. 

"I now decided to use force, and with 
a feint knocked the razor from his hand, 
and threw him by sheer strength to one 
side. By that time the men who had 
been lounging in the shop obstructed my 
passage, each with a drawn knife. 
Seizing a chair, I whirled it above my 
head, and threshing about with it, like a 
flail, I bowled over my opponents, and 
rah up the alley to the street. 

"With loud yells and curses in 
Spanish, the barber with his retainers 
and a few street gamins pursued me at 
full speed, and as we emerged from the 
alley on to the main street others entered 
into the pursuit. 

"I have been an athlete in my day, but 
I never could run. Well, fear lent wings 
to my flight, and I confess that I was 
not a little scared when I heard the snarl- 
ing of the angry mob close at my heels. 
In spite of the fact that I fairly flew 
through the air, the intervening space 
between the foremost of the mob, which 
now numbered hundreds, and myself, 
rapidly diminished. In the excitement 
of the moment I had quite forgotten the 
road to the shipping, and was fleeing 
in the opposite direction. Knowing the 
vicious ferocity of the Latin races, I had 
not a shadow of a doubt but that my 
time had come, but I doggedly plunged 
on. A negro stepped in my way ; we 
grappled, and in desperation I tripped 
him up, and evaded the clutch of another 
by a swift uppercut. 

"Little more than a dozen yard now- 
lay between the crowd and myself, and 
I muttered a prayer for assistance, but 
seemingly to no avail. Turning a corner 
sharply, I knocked over a fruit vender, 
sending his wares all over the thorough- 
fare, and then hurdled over some small 



354 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



children who were in my way. At last 
I began to out-distance the pursuers, who 
were tumbling all over each other in an 
effort to capture me, and turning abrupt- 
ly up a side street, I made for the house 
on my right. This last had an open 
casement about seven feet from the 
ground, and with a spring I caught the 
railing which encircled it, hastily drew 
myself up, and entered a vacant apart- 
ment. 

"I was just in the nick of time, for I 
had scarcely disappeared from view, 
when the angry mob raced around the 
corner, and after a moment's considera- 
tion, began a hurried search for my 
hiding-place. Hearing voices in the next 
room, I hid myself behind a heavy por- 
tiere and waited, with throbbing heart. 
I was not a moment too soon, for scarce- 
ly had I concealed myself, when a tall 
man, I suppose he was a Spaniard, en- 
tered with a young girl, who was play- 
ing a guitar. The man approached the 
balcony, and looked askance at the mob, 
which was busily searching for me, and 
then shouted a few words with an im- 
perious sweep of his arm. He must 
have been a person of great influence, 
for the yells and screams of the mob im- 
mediately subsided to a low grumble. 

"The girl ceased playing and ap- 
proached the spot where I was in hiding, 
and for a moment it seemed as if I must 
be discovered, for I was sure that she 
could hear the thumping of my heart. I 
stood as rigid as a statue, and my patience 
was rewarded by the couple leaving the 
room. 

"Knowing that now was my only 
chance of escape, I crept forth from my 
place of concealment and proceeded 
stealthily to the door, on all fours. Peer- 
ing carefully about, I noted a pair of 
stairs at my left, and no one being visible 
I went up these, three steps at a time, 
with a faint glow of hope in my heart. 
But T was doomed to disappointment, for 
I had scarce emerged upon the flat roof 
before a yell of triumph sounded, at 
close quarters, and a big negro came 
rushing at me. I avoided his charge and 
then pitched into him, and we swayed 
back and forth, now at the edge of the 
roof, and now by the stairs. In some 



way we lost our footing and tumbled 
over and over down the stairs, punching 
and kicking. I reached the foot of the 
stairs ahead of the negro, leaped down 
another staircase, and emerged upon the 
street. I then found to my dismay, that 
my ankle had been severely twisted in 
the scrimmage, and that I was unable to 
go on. 

"Seeing at once, that further flight was 
useless I determined to defend myself 
for a time, at least, and taking the only 
weapon I had, a twenty-two calibre 
revolver, in my right hand, I placed 
myself with my back to the wall of the 
house. 

"With a loud shout the crowd gathered 
in front of me ; I can't describe how I 
felt, nor can I describe how ugly and 
menacing the crowd appeared, but I can 
tell you that I never was so scared before 
nor since. 

"They were certainly an ugly mob ; 
negroes, Domingans, Spaniards, and the 
class of watermen one generally finds in 
the W^est Indies. They kept up a con- 
tinual shouting and screaming, as if 
making suggestions to one another, and 
once in a while in the hubbub I could 
make out the sound of a Spanish oath. 

"But despite their bravado they were 
all cowards, for the sight of my revolver 
seemed to awe them. From their anim- 
ated gestures and voices I gathered that 
those in the rear were taunting and urg- 
ing their compatriots in the foreground, 
while the latter desperately attempted to 
retire beyond the range of my gun, and 
in so doing trod upon the toes of their 
friends directly in the rear, thus causing 
much confusion and squabbling. 

"There I was, with the perspiration 
streaming down my face, holding a 
vicious mob at bay with a small revolver ; 
an unpleasant situation, you will agree. 

"My little gun kept them about ten 
feet away, and I was foolishly yelling at 
them, all the while, in English. 

" 'Keep back,' I cried in a tense voice, 
'keep back you cowards. Can any one 
here speak English?' And when no one 
responded I gave a loud shout of 'Help, 
help !' But no response came. 

"Tn a few moments, the boldest of the 
mob, began to edge toward me, probably 



A PRACTICAL JOKE 



355 



suspecting that my weapon was really 
not loaded, but I soon dispelled that idea 
by firing over their heads, and at their 
feet. 

"The next minute something touched 
my neck, and I don't remember exactly 
what happened. But I do recollect that 
somehow I lost my revolver; that the 
mob was stabbing at me, and that I fell 
over choked to insensibility by a rope 
around my neck. 

"When I came to my senses, I found 
that I was lying in a gutter surrounded 
by a dense throng, who were arguing 
over my fate. There was a painful cut 
on my right cheek, the scar is there yet, 
and my clothes were torn and mud 
bedraggled. 

"I made an effort to rise but was 
pushed down again by the excited bar- 
ber, who sat upon my stomach to ensure 
my safe keeping. There was a move- 
ment in the crowd and in a moment two 
men clad immaculately in white duck, 
and armed with a sword and revolver 
apiece forced their way to my side. I 
recognized these men as government 
officials, and I never was so glad to see 
two men, as I was to see them, for I 
thought surely that the mob meant to 
kill me, and I don't think I was far 
wrong, either. 

"The mob was quiet and sullen now, 
for I was out of their power, and in the 
clutches of the law. The little barber 
was jabbering excitedly, no doubt stating 
his side of the affair, while I sat up rue- 
fully rubbing my injured ankle. 

The soldiers or policemen, I don't 
know which, hauled me to my feet with- 
out ceremony, and pushed me through 
the crowd, and down the street. 

"The mob now broke up, save for a 
few street urchins who followed us, 
hooting and yelling all the while. Al- 
though I was greatly relieved to be out 
of the power of the mob, I was by no 
means at my ease, for I well knew that 
I might have to remain two or three 
weeks in jail before having a trial, if I 

did not notify Captain W or the 

British consul. 

"I kept my eyes open for some one 
who would take a message but no one 
appeared. At length I said, 'Do you 



speak English?' but they could not, and 
I saw that it would be impossible to ex- 
plain my case to them. The officers spoke 
frequently to each other and I heard 
several times, the word Americano, 
spoken. 

"We arrived in short order at the one- 
story stone structure, called the prison, 
into which I was discourteously thrust, 
with many protests. I was led down a 
pair of stairs along a stone corridor and 
finally shoved into a cell. 

"When the lock had clicked behind me, 
I surveyed my surroundings with an air 
of interest, despite the fact that I was a 
prisoner. The room was about ten feet 
square, seven feet high, and with a small 
grated opening just below the ceiling; 
directly beneath the window was a stone 
bench covered with straw, upon which 
reclined the only occupant of the cell 
besides myself, an old negro, who was 
scrutinizing me with great interest. 

"My personal appearance must have 
been prepossessing ; my coat and trousers 
were torn and mud stained ; my hat was 
gone and my face was covered with 
sweat and blood. 

"My first thought was of the joke 
played upon me by thoughtless Captain 

W ; I was, as they say, neck full of 

profanity, and in my bitter indignation, I 
thought of a dozen ways in which I 
could get square with the captain. I 
resolved to spoil his untarnished reputa- 
tion as a gentleman ; I would report his 
conduct to the Minister of Marine, and 
proclaim him unfit to hold his position. 

"I glanced about the cell ; the very 
thought of remaining there overnight, let 
alone two or three weeks, was repugnant. 
But what could I do? The Coral Leaf 
sailed the next day, and I reasoned, in my 
anger, that if the captain could play such 
a cruel joke, he probably would clear 
Macoris and leave me to my fate. I was 
a little unjust to the captain I will allow, 
for I had always been one of his chosen 
friends. 

"I found that the old negro could 
speak a little English and questioned him 
concerning when and where I would 
have my trial. He replied that every 
week the prisoners were taken under 
heavy guard to Santo Domingo City, the 



356 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



capital, there to be tried, and that he 
was expecting a guard to appear at the 
cell door, to take us, any minute. 

"I paced back and forth uneasily, and 
then sprang upon the bench and peered 
through the grated opening which faced 
a wide alley. 

"I had scarcely taken my position, 
when I beheld a tall negro in white duck 
come swinging up the street, and as he 
came nearer I recognized him to be 
Rinaldo, the revenue officer whose life I 
had saved the day before. As he passed 
an arm's length from me, I called his 
name. He peered through the bars, and 
saw who I was, and then I explained by 
gesture what I wanted done. I tore a 
page from my notebook, and scribbled 

enough upon it to make Captain W 

understand that I was in prison as a 
result of his joke, and needed his imme- 
diate assistance. 

"A half an hour elapsed before I 
heard a commotion on the floor above, 



and in a few seconds a key rattled in the 
lock, and the door swung open. In 

strode Captain W ,with anxious mien, 

followed by one of the soldiers, evidently 
an officer, if gold lace amounts to any- 
thing. 

"Without a word Captain W held 

out his hand toward me, and instantly I 
thought better of my resolution, never 
to forgive him, and gave him a hearty 
hand shake. I then explained the case to 
him, fully, and he speaking in fluent 
Spanish, informed the officer how the 
unfortunate incident occurred. 

"The official was very gracious, and 
escorted us to the barber's where a suffi- 
cient sum was expended. The barber 
said "Muchos gracios," in such a leering 
tone that I felt like kicking him for the 
trouble he had caused me. 

"Well, the captain apologized so 
profusely that it was impossible to have 
any ill-feeling about it. He said he had 
learned his lesson, and I believe he had." 



Real Troubles 

By GERTRUDE H. McGIFFERT 



Your eyes are masked to-day — 

The skies are gray, 
Winds cry among the solitary trees, 
The dying embers sadden me to tears, 
A barrel-organ stirs old memories 

Of other years. 
The dull belated sunset seems a part 

Of my defeated heart, 
My tattered chair, my faded tapestries, 
My broken clock, ah so — 

I know 
If you had kissed me all the world were gay 

To-day ! 



New England: The World's 
Shoe Center 



By ALFRED WARREN DONOVAN 

President of Boston Boot and Shoe Club, Vice-President of the Massachusetts 

State Board of Trade 



WHEN shrewd Darius Cobb and 
canny Thomas Hunt began 
the manufacture of shoes in 
old Abington in 1800 they 
established the supremacy of New Eng- 
land as the center, the heart and home, of 
the shoe and leather industry. Her 
supremacy has never been questioned 
since that day despite the vigorous efforts 
of our Western friends, who with in- 
domitable courage have sought to win for 
the West our birth-right. Easier would 
be the transfer of the pyramid Cheops, 
from Egypt to Boston Common, or the 
Tower of London to the Harvard 
stadium. Why? Simple enough. Ask 
the New England tanner for instance if 
it is not true that it is impossible to obtain 
the same results in other sections of the 
country as they do here. It may be the 
water of our New England hills. The 
workers on the leather say it is, but 
possibly science has a more impressive 
reason for it. Call it the spirit of Darius 
Cobb, Tom Hunt and their prototypes, 
which has insidiously saturated our at- 
mosphere with shoe-making fever and 
there you will have it. Shoe men know 
that New England always was and al- 
ways must be the leader and aside 
from excellence of product, three cen- 
turies of Yankee workmanship and 
genius, they will tell you that it is some- 
thing else that makes New England 
superior. It is psychological and cannot 
be reduced to exact terms of expression 
and it is perfectly understood in the trade 
that the leadership could not go else- 
where and be maintained. 



Why is it that shoe workers from a 
distant section, who have been failures in 
their previous environment, come to New 
England and become successful, skillful 
and highly paid workmen? Why is it 
that a shoe manufacturer who has been 
unsuccessful in foreign fields can come 
here and be successful ? Give the reason 
and you have the cause of our superior- 
ity. "It's in the air of New England to 
make good shoes — a man can't help it," 
so a prominent manufacturer once de- 
clared when after a serious study into 
the underlying forces he finally decided 
that aside from skill, superiority of all 
kinds and masterly administration, there 
was a deeper, vaguer, and more subtle 
reason for our leadership. 

Is there any danger of New England's 
losing her supremacy ? Possibly, if those 
engaged in the industry lie down and let 
the progressive Western spirit beat us to 
the markets. Yes, if we who have been 
working shoulder to shoulder in our 
factories and boards of trade cease to 
show interest in our chosen business, but 
is this at all likely? Hardly! We lead. 
We always shall lead and the West must 
follow. The business spirit is awake 
here. Within a decade the boards of 
trade movements have taken on a new 
aspect and renewed vigor. New England 
is now endow r ed permanently with the 
hustling, dogged progressive spirit which 
has always been so closely associated 
with the business life of the great West, 
so with our natural advantages and long 
experience we have been able to say to 
the folk from the Westward, "Follow." 

357 



358 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Asaph Dunbar turned out good shoes 
in Rockland in 1826. He was the 
Pioneer "big manufacturer/' Cobb and 
Hunt had worked in a small, local way. 
Dunbar had gone far out into the sparse- 
ly settled communities, yes even into 
Philadelphia and New York to get trade 
and justly won the right to be called 
"shoe merchant." His were the old 
pegged sole methods, which you and I 
have seen within our own time at the 
wayside cobbler's, but every peg was sent 
home with an honest blow which spelled 
and punctuated the words "good New 
England workmanship" and we of the 
intricate, human-like machinery days 
have honestly endeavored to follow that 
ancient manipulator of elbow grease. 

To paraphrase, "Those were the times 
that tried men's soles," because those 
springless, dead bottoms certainly racked 
the very vitals of the wearers even 
though Asaph Dunbar and his followers 
were forever striving to make better and 
more stylish boots, especially for the 
women folks. History shows that the 
demand for dainty feminine footwear 
was as persistent and as unswerving in 
those old days as it is to-day, and it was 
their pretty persistence which made our 
fathers and grandfathers rack their in- 
genious brains to continually provide 
something better and brought us where 
we are to-day — to the forefront. 

We must look far, far into the dim 
past to ascertain just what led to our 
present supremacy and as I write I have 
in mind the reasons so neatly summarized 
by an efficient New England publicity 
organization in a recent publication. 
Three hundred years ago we first began 
to manufacture. For one hundred years 
we worked day and night to supply our- 
selves with the barest necessities. Cut 
off from the old country, depressed at 
times through hardships and reluctant to 
call upon those across the water for aid, 
the struggle was a bitter one, but the 
spirit survived to become triumphant. 
First it was general manufacture, but 
during the first hundred years of incuba- 
tion the germ of specialization increased 
from an atom to a healthy child and when 
the century had closed the period of 
specialization had been nursed into robust 



youth. 

The Yankee knack was turned to detail 
and we saw perfected almost daily ex- 
quisitely constructed machinery that 
saved labor, carefully eliminated and 
saved for proper purposes valuable by- 
products ; that detected and eliminated 
every item of waste and began to make us 
a moneyed nation. These things were 
true of all sorts of devices, but they were 
particularly applicable to the shoe-mak- 
ing industry, which has been so typical of 
New England. That Yankee with the 
knack was absolutely dissatisfied with 
things as they were. No sooner had he 
made one improvement than another even 
more startling presented itself to his ever 
active brain and the fever of invention 
spread with startling rapidity and amaz- 
ing results. 

For years the shoe manufacturer, en- 
dowed with that good judgment and con- 
servatism inherited from the pioneers in 
the trade, used the best of the old and 
the best of the new. Surprising though 
it may seem, having in mind the remark- 
able performances of present day machin- 
ery, within our recollection the old way- 
side shoemaker was a common sight. He 
yanked the waxed thread and hammered 
vigorously all the day long to produce 
three pairs of shoes, and it seems remark- 
able that with the invention of one par- 
ticular machine within recent years, the 
capacity of one man increased about 
three hundred per cent. 

The making of shoes up to the Civil 
War, was a crude sort of business at best 
and progress was but fairly noticeable 
until Gordon McKay with Blake of 
Abington invented and perfected their 
remarkable machine. Because capital 
refused to listen to Mr. McKay he 
adopted and perfected a leasing system, 
through which he retained title to his 
unknown machines and got them into 
factories at a low rate to the conservative 
manufacturers who at that time dis- 
trusted their efficiency. All manufac- 
turers know that it was this lone fighter, 
penniless and friendless, who started the 
efficient leasing system, which was adopt- 
ed, perfected and continued with phe- 
nomenal success by the United Shoe 
Machinery Company. The advantage of 



NEW ENGLAND: THE WORLD'S SHOE CENTER 



359 




Alfred W. Donovan, Pres. of E. T. Wright & Co., Inc., Pres. of Boston 

Boot and Shoe Club, Vice Pres. Massachusetts 

State Board of Trade 



this method to the struggling manufac- 
turer who need not spend a great sum in 
starting his business, cannot be over- 
estimated. 

In Essex county, Massachusetts, the 
infant industry was cradled and when it 
had fairly attained its growth began to be 
heard of through the great country, and 
the West awoke to a realization of its 
possibilities. But never did New England 
allow itself to be out-stripped. The in- 
ventions of McKay and his nimble-witted 
associates made room for the organiza- 



tion of the company that has made the 
modern shoe a structure of comfort, 
beauty and altogether the most delightful 
foot repository since those happy days 
when climatic conditions and lack of con- 
vention permitted the untrammelled 
clasping of the foot by the airy and grace- 
ful scandal. 

Could this continual, brainy reaching 
after perfection have been carried on in 
a haphazard manner? As an open- 
minded manufacturer, I believe that it 
could not have been done. The organ- 



360 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



ization of a corps of experts under pro- 
gressive, business-like management made 
the development of our industry possible 
and the fellow who has struggled to suc- 
cess with their aid must admit that be- 
hind the apparently impassive iceberg 
there was the undercurrent of good-fel- 
lowship and encouragement, which as- 
sured us that behind the clouds there was 
a substantial prop. 

The many manufacturers who have 
struggled, as I have here indicated, will 
agree with my humble opinion that the 
leasing and royalty system was of in- 
effable advantage to them and never did 
they fear for their future with the able 
support behind them. "The truth about 




The Old Way 

From an old woodcut in early literature sent 

out by McKay and Goodyear, showing 

the old cobbler with a capacity of 

three pairs of shoes per day. 

New England," is all that is necessary 
to advertise her. We are all working 
together to make New England superior, 
not only in shoes, but in every other line 
of activity. Shoe manufacturers and 
shoe machinery interests have worked 
shoulder to shoulder. Without the great 
shoe industry and the "shoe feeling" in 
the air of New England, the United com- 
pany would not have prospered so fa- 
mously. Without the assistance of the 
company, the New England shoe would 
be held back many years in attaining her 
great supremacy. Our shoes have gone 
out from New England and made us 



famous. Our shoe machinery interests 
have carried- the doctrine and products 
of New England inventive genius to the 
distant parts of the world. Both these 
manufacturing interests of the shoe in- 
dustry have been imbued with the whole- 
some desire to produce at all times mas- 
terpieces in their particular line, so that 
the New England dogma has become 
world famous. 

Organization has always meant a great 
deal to commercial interests and we are 
fortunate here in having such perfect 
systems engaged in our own favorite in- 
dustry. Take the road organization of 
the great shoe machinery manufacturing 
company. The leasing system carries 
with it the necessity of keeping the 
machines up to the highest standard and 
men must patrol the country for that 
purpose. This band of experts, disciples 
of a masterly system, keen and analytical, 
are the best advance agents New Eng- 
land could possibly have. Descendants 
of keen, careful ' mechanics, saturated 
with New England shoe sentiment, they 
go through the great West, and often- 
times across the water bringing our ad- 
vanced ideas to the stranger who is eager 
to imitate. Imitate they may, but to lead 
is psychologically impossible. Argument 
from strangers cannot change the ideas 
of these men that New England leads. 
Many have tried to coerce them into the 
belief that the West was the place for 
machinery and shoe' development, but 
they have absolutely failed. Give me 
more of these apostles of New England 
industry and our industrial faith is safe. 

The shoe and leather men of New 
England will not rest upon their record 
for good workmanship and honest goods 
to maintain their supremacy. It might 
have been possible in the old days, but 
our friends of the West have realized 
the advantages of publicity and per- 
sistent advertising of even ordinary 
goods, bearing an effective trade-mark. 
It is necessary for us to judiciously and 
persistently advertise our goods. The 
"Made in New England" doctrine should 
be ours. Our goods should bear its 
stamp. Our cases should be literally 
pasted with signs bearing the four magic 
words, so that when the goods reach the 



NEW ENGLAND: THE WORLD'S SHOE CENTER 



361 



distant sections of the world where they 
are going each day in ever increasing 
quantities, New England-made shoes will 
have the same significance to distant 
folks that they have to the United States. 
Recently a writer truly declared that 
the only thing the matter with New Eng- 
land is that she fails to appreciate her 



and it is a well known fact that statistics 
recently showed that one-fifth of the sav- 
ings of the American people are in New 
England savings and co-operative banks. 
It is a great place in which to live. Our 
children are well cared for by our great 
public schools, and with that persistent 
self-advertisement and alertness to pro- 




The New Way 
Showing the exquisitely proportioned Goodyear Welt and Turn Shoe Machine that work' 
upon thousands of shoes every day with amazing and tireless accuracy. 



advantages. New England is superior 
to any other part of the country from a 
business and commercial standpoint, but 
constant reiteration by boards of trade 
and other commercial bodies seems to be 
absolutely necessary to keep the district 
alive to its advantages and responsibil- 
ities. We are in the wealthiest com- 
munity in the world, which means that 
the purchasing power is correspondingly 
enormous. Our savings are greatest. 



gressive business methods that mean 
business leadership, our future looms up 
gloriously. 

The world has been opened up to us 
through the efficient assistance of the 
state department at Washington and the 
consular corps. The New England 
manufacturer had a good advance agent 
in the shoe machinery branch of our in- 
dustry which sent its Yankee machines 
to Europe, but never appreciably dis- 



362 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



turbed our shoe trade with tHem. New 
England must be awake to the import- 
ance of the international exposition to be 
held in Turin, Italy, during 1911. The 
State department is alive to the import- 
ance of this great exposition, and Secre- 
tary Knox has agreed to allow it to give 
the exposition its patronage. 



uously labelling our product. "Made in 
New England" should be emphasized. 
There is nothing which our business men 
could do that would accrue more to their 
advantage than to cooperate with the 
Shoe and Leather Association, the able 
Chamber of Commerce of Boston, and 
other New England boards of trade in 




Rex Pulling-Over Machine 

With steel pincers operating far more rapidly and accurately than the human fingers, 
leather is drawn over the last and nailed. 



The 



Our New England Shoe and Leather 
Association which so ably inaugurated 
and persistently pushed our consular 
forces to a realization of the importance 
of New England industries, deserves all 
the credit for this awakening of the State 
department to its responsibilities. 

Jn connection with this foreign phase 
of the New England shoe industry we 
must emphasize the importance of the 
vigorous advertising of our product and 
our district, by generously and conspic- 



spreading the "Made in New England" 
gospel. Billions of pairs of shoes have 
been sent out, some of them generously 
advertised with some sort of trade mark, 
but at least three billion pairs have been 
sent broadcast with their home market 
not indicated. Imagine the great impetus 
to our progressive trade movement here, 
if all those great shipments were gener- 
ously bespattered with the "Made in New 
England" labels. 

Tt is our intolerable New England 



NEW ENGLAND: THE WORLD'S SHOE CENTER 



363 




Example of Modern New England 
Made Shoes 

complacency that so long deferred such a 
movement as the "Made in New Eng- 
land." Our ultra-conservatism has de- 
terred us somewhat. Our energy should 
be directed more to the outside ad- 
vertising of our produce. New Eng- 
land is ours safely enough, but the worth 
of our product and institutions must be 
more clearly enunciated in all corners of 
the world. 

Although they have in Europe the ad- 
vantage of the same highly perfected 
machinery which we have, the European 
shoe for four or five dollars cannot com- 
pare with our three dollar shoe either in 
beauty or comfort. We can maintain the 
New England lead even in Europe, as 
the tariff is not severe. It is not in excess 
of fifty cents per pair on any European 
tariff list, while the whole Italian market 
is open to us with a twenty cents per pair 
tariff. 

New England individuality, which has 
made our goods immediately recogniz- 
able in the shoe consuming centers 
should be even more firmly impressed 
upon the world. We have nothing to 
learn from the West except to assimilate 
their hustling self-advertisement prin- 
ciples, and to be as sanguine as they are 
about the future. 

The atmosphere of New England is 
bad for the pessimist. The very air 
buzzes with the hum of progress, and our 
own industry makes us just as distinctive 
to the United States as is Manchester, 



England, through her great weaving or- 
ganizations. Our shoes have made us 
famous, and our shoe machinery manu- 
facturing interests have made it possible 
for us to become still more noted. 

An organization that makes it possible 
for any intelligent shoemaker to begin the 
manufacture of shoes without the initial 
outlay of a vast sum of money, and with- 
out the attendant loss of interest on his 
investment as well as the loss through 
depreciation of equipment, has been n 
potent factor in our progress. No man 
can say that the startling advances that 
we have made in the past decade as shoe 
men and as New England business men 
would have been possible without that 
factor. 

Exquisitely constructed is the shoe 
machinery of the present day, but our 
leadership would long ago have been 
seriously jeopardized, in my humble 
opinion, but for the distinction this 
branch of our industry gave to New 
England. We must admit that this shoe 
machinery organization has such a firm 
hold upon the trade that it would be 
presumptuous for any outsider to step in 
at this late day and attempt to dislodge 
it. The spirit of cooperation between the 
two principal branches of the industry, 
shoe machinery, and shoe manufacturing 
are a unit, working shoulder to shoulder 




Example of Modern New England 
Made Shoes 



364 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




Example of Modern New England 
Made Shoes 

to tell the world about New England. 
This spirit has always been maintained 
and is growing even stronger. 

These salient features must be forever 
remembered. Our preeminence in the 
shoe industry is due to an early start and 
the unusual geographical and climatic 
conditions that combine to give us that 
"Shoe feeling" previously mentioned. 
Competition for a long time remained in- 
active. But can we, of New England, 
ignore the fact that the very foundation, 
on which was erected the present impos- 
ing Western advertising of Western 
shoes was the distribution of the New 
England-made shoes which are still being 



bought in enormous quantities and sold 
as a Western product. Then what can we 
not do if we add Western advertising 
methods to our own high-grade reputa- 
tion? 

These words from a publisher to New 
England shoe men neatly summarize the 
situation as regards New England: "It 
has been said that every ten years prac- 
tically changes the entire personnel of the 
shoe retailers of the country. Old buyers 
who knew the material and skill your 
father used in making shoes, are giving 
place to young, progressive retailers who 
want goods that are known-goods that 
move. 

"The public is being educated to call 
for all kinds of goods under a trade- 
mark name. They realize that no manu- 
facturer can long afford to cheapen a 
product over his own name, and they 
place confidence in the trade-mark. 
New England shoe manufacturers have 
nothing to fear by telling the truth about 
your goods." 

Let New England know herself. Her 
methods are superior. Fate was kind in 
decreeing that the industry of shoe mak- 
ing should be located within her boun- 
daries. Yankee knack and genius made 
her famous and made it profitable for all 
branches of the industry to locate here. 
The world loves New England. The 
markets are open to her, and we stand 
upon the threshold of a better, more 
glorious and profitable future for our 
beloved district and ourselves. 




Hermann Kotzschmar 
An Appreciation 



By LATHAM TRUE, MUS. D. 



IF on the map of Germany a triangle 
be drawn, having as its base a line 
connecting the cities of Leipzig and 
Dresden and as its apex the city of 
Berlin, about half-way between Dresden 
and Berlin and equally distant from the 
three cities, will be found the town of 
Finsterwalde, the birthplace and early 
home of Hermann Kotzschmar. Some- 
what off beaten lines of travel, we still 
find in this region quaint walled towns 
into whose atmosphere of respectable 
antiquity the din of modernity has as yet 
hardly penetrated. Its people cling 
tenaciously to customs of by-gone days. 
Villages hold their weekly fairs, to which 
the country-side resorts, as of old, for 
gossip and barter ; and the lusty voice of 
the town crier, proclaiming his news in 
public places, falls strangely on modern 
ears and carries us back to the more 
primitive days of Hermann Kotzschmar's 
youth. His father, Gottfried Kotzsch- 
mar, was town musician of Finsterwalde, 
and from his earliest childhood Hermann 
breathed an atmosphere of music. It is 
hard to realize that when he was born 
Beethoven had been dead less than three 
years, and that memories of Mozart and 
Haydn were as fresh in the minds of 
many yet living as are those of Wagner 
and Liszt to scores of our own contempo- 
raiies. The cities of Germany were at 
this time centers of musical unrest ;- but 
nothing of all this had as yet reached the 
smaller towns, and in Finsterwalde the 
traditions of Mozart and the early 
Beethoven still held peaceful sway. 
Stadtmusiker Kotzschmar was a busy 
man, but as was the custom of the 
country he taught his son to play pass- 
ably on several instruments, and bv the 



time Hermann had reached his teens he 
was not only a pianist of marked ability, 
but was able also to perform his part 
creditably on the violin, flute, clarinet, 
trombone or horn. This training during 
his formative years was of incalculable 
value in later life. Not only did his 
familiarity with the different instruments 
and his orchestral experience develop his 
ability to read rapidly and perform ac- 
curately, and impress upon his plastic 
mind imperishable images of blended 
tone color; but from the music which he 
heard and performed he learned to value 
the directness and simplicity of style 
which we recognize as characteristic of 
his own compositions. While yet a mere 
boy he left these quiet home surround- 
ings to continue his studies in Dresden, 
where for five years he worked industri- 
ously to broaden the technical founda- 
tions already laid. It was here that he 
mastered the intricacies of counterpoint, 
and in the music of Bach and his con- 
temporaries he drank deeply at that 
fountain-head which has been for our 
time the source of all true musical appre- 
ciation. From this school of strict 
writing he developed the keen insight and 
critical knowledge which became so 
valuable to later generations, and in after 
years, in his adopted home, he delighted 
to show to students the page's he had 
filled with contrapuntal studies, pains- 
takingly worked. It was here in Dresden 
that he breathed for the first time the 
fresh atmosphere of a new musical 
dawning, filling and expanding his youth- 
ful lungs with the crisp morning air of 
Romanticism. Our imagination loves to 
dwell on what might have happened had 
young Kotzschmar remained in this en- 

365 



366 



^NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



vironment. The light which burned in 
his eye was never the quiet, steady flame 
of classicism; and despite an inborn love 
of form and an inbred technique of strict 
composition, no one who knew him can 
doubt that the passion of his genius 
would have swept him into the new 
movement, perhaps, — who knows ? — to 
enroll his name among those whose fame 
is world-wide in the annals of music. 

These were Hermann Kotzschmar's 
apprentice years. His period of wander- 
ing, following hard upon them, was of 
shorter duration, but it led him far afield 
into a new land across the sea, and left 
him stranded and penniless in a country 
with whose language and customs and 
musical ideals he was unfamiliar. That 
the sapling throve and took firm root and 
grew into a hardy tree in its new environ- 
ment, was due to the stock whence it 
sprang. Of Slavonic strain, as well as 
Teutonic, — for the name Kotzschmar is 
Czesch, meaning Landbesitzer, landed 
proprietor, — his nature possessed many 
of the hardy traits of his wandering an- 
cestors, as well as the tenacity of purpose, 
characteristic of the German people. 
These, and the practical experience he 
had already gained, sustained him during 
his early years in Portland, when he was 
obliged to labor under the pressure of 
immediate and stern necessity and to 
turn his abilities to practical account. It 
was no longer the cultivation of the 
fugue, it was the use of his bow in the 
theatre ; no longer Romantic dreamings, 
but the driest of hack work, which filled 
his waking hours. But amid all this 
drudgery he found occasional spare mo- 
ments and set to work bravely to develop 
still further his own taste and skill, until 
gradually, as he himself grew in breadth 
and independence, he lifted first his 
pupils, then his associates, and finally the 
whole musical community, to higher 
levels of attainment and appreciation. 
As he became more firmly established he 
dropped those labors which were most 
uncongenial in performance and least 
elevating in association, and as a per- 
former he became identified solely with 
the organ and piano. By temperament 
and early training he was admirably 
fitted to command the resources of the 



former instrument. Here again, though 
in somewhat different dress, were the 
shades of tone colo'r to which the 
orchestra had accustomed his ear. The 
rows of stops were to him so many 
skilled performers, whose tones he inter- 
wove and blended at will, 

Bidding his organ obey, calling its keys 

to their work, 
Chaining each slave of a sound at a 

touch, as when Solomon willed 

Armies of angels 

Should rush into sight at once, as he 

named the ineffable Name. 

As organist he grew to embody all the 
best characteristics of his time. Organ 
playing, in this country, at least, was con- 
fined largely to the offices of the church 
service, and the organ numbers, instead 
of being set compositions, as is the rule 
to-day, were generally extemporaneous. 
Mr. Kotzschmar's improvisation was un- 
doubtedly the most untrammelled ex- 
pression he ever attained of his inner 
musical nature. It was above all else 
forceful and original in treatment, while 
yet sufficiently conventional in detail to 
satisfy the demands of classic form. 
Portland has known other skilful or- 
ganists, but in improvisation he stands 
unrivalled. People came from far sud 
near to hear him, and returned again and 
again to "listen and bow the head." His 
mastery of the instrument was complete. 
As the bell tolled the hour of sendee, the 
soft tone of the organ pedals, half heard, 
half felt, seemed to 

Burrow awhile and build broad on the 
roots of things, 

Then up again shoot into sight . 

And another would mount .... 

Another and yet another, one crowd but 
with many a crest, 

Raising rampired walls of gold as trans- 
parent as glass, 

Eager to do and die, yield each his place 
to the rest. 

But through it all he never lost sight of 
the fitness of time and place. The voice 
of the organ was always modulated to its 
part in the church service, and he never 



HERMANN KOTZSCHMAR 



367 



permitted his fancy to lure him too far 
astray into by-paths of frivolity or 
secularity. Such handling of the instru- 
ment could never be taught, and as he 
had no equal so he left no successor. 
Technically, an analysis of his style 
revealed only devices understood and 
practiced by every organist, — here a 
retardation, there an acceleration, again 
a blending of known stops to produce 
definite tonal effects. But formal analysis 
must always fail to sound the depths of 
an individuality through whose talent 
God has elected to s*X;,k, and the clever- 
est imitation of his methods failed to 
produce his results. He sermonized 
from the organ loft no less directly than 
did the line of scholarly men who* spoke 
from the pulpit ; and it is as organist, as 
priest of the divine art of spontaneous 
soul-outburst through the keys of his 
instrument, that whoever sat under his 
ministration in old First Parish meeting- 
house, will remember him longest and 
most fondly. 

Many of these same charming char- 
acteristics showed themselves in his 
handling of the piano. But the piano 
seemed never quite to satisfy him. There 
was something lacking in its mechanical 
alliance of hammer and string, and he 
reached out, unconsciously perhaps, after 
something which that instrument, with 
its limitations, could never supply. This 
elusive ideal was color. When he sought 
to bring from the piano what the organ 
gave so willingly, he demanded impos- 
sibilities ; but though he did not succeed 
in reproducing those lovely tone sketches, 
he was able to imitate them with marvel- 
ous fidelity. The piano is to the 
orchestra what drawing in black and 
white is to painting in oils. Light and 
shade pertain to both, but on the piano 
texture and color may be suggested only, 
never made quite real. To Mr. Kotzsch- 
mar such composers as Beethoven or 
Schumann spoke always in terms of 
orchestra, and he strove by every known 
device of touch to translate at the piano 
the blending of orchestral voices. Be- 
sides this, his playing had the charm of 
perpetual extemporization. Whether he 
played written notes or gave rein to his 
own imagination, to him music was al- 



ways extemporization. 1 In-, was his 
gypsy temperament, the inexplicable 
Slavonic mystery of race and blood 
whirl) his fingers wove into the warp and 
v. > >f of every fabric. Everything he 
played became as peculiarly his own ;i- if 
lie himself bad composed it. This was 
equally true of his accompaniment play- 
ing in which he excelled. Not only did 
he accompany intelligently, delicately, 
sympathetically, — every good accom- 



pam t 



the same; lie added in- 



dividuality, and though he often seemed 
i i violate all set rules of accompaniment 

playing, hi- was the authority of the 
master and his results always justified 
whatever liberties he took. No soloist 
outshone his brilliant support, and 
through the inspiration of his genius 
mediocrity in performance became inter- 
esting. 

But though it was as a performer that 
Mr. Kotzschmar was best known locally, 
it was as a choral conductor that he 
attained widest recognition. He was one 
of the pioneers, and no list of America's 
great conductors is complete without his 
name Under his baton the Haydn Asso- 
ciation became one of the leading 
oratorio societies of the country, and had 
the growth of Portland enabled it to fol- 
low whither his genius led, it would still 
retain all its former prestige. His was 
the dominant personality which created 
in our city a taste for the performance of 
oratorio, his the inspiration of its suc- 
cess, his the indomitable will which sus- 
tained it as long as any human power 
could have done so. His methods as 
conductor were simple and direct, his 
interpretation forceful and earnest, his 
results dignified and musicianly. He 
sank his own individuality in that of the 
composer whose works lie sought to in- 
terpret, and he scorned those idiosyn- 
crasies of genius which inevitably detract 
from the sincerity of performance. 

His most modest, and at the same time 
his most enduring professional work was 
as a teacher. In the reposeful hours of 
recurring lessons his contact with a stu- 
dent grew lovingly intimate, and he 
watched with tender solicitude over the 
unfolding of a musical nature. As a mas- 
ter he inspired respect and reverence, for 



368 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



he imparted his knowledge with dignity 
and authority, though with unostentatious 
simplicity. Strict at times, he was always 
gentle and patient and painstaking. He 
built for eternity, therefore he built 
slowly. He loved to use many illustra- 
tions, drawn not only from his profound 
knowledge of music but from a seem- 
ingly inexhaustible store of general in- 
formation, analyzing, criticising, general- 
izing and comparing, until the driest 
technicality, clothed from his mind, grew 
lovely in appearance. He developed 
ideals of beauty in the lives of his pupils ; 
but he did far more than that, — he cul- 
tivated independence of thought. This 
is the secret of perfect teaching, and 
since he understood and applied it he 
should rank among the greatest of 
teachers. He produced, not slavish 
imitators of himself, but self-reliant 
musicians, masters of method and inter- 
pretation. His pupils have graced the 
high places of the land, and the precious 
heritage of his teaching has been handed 
down in ever-widening circles of influ- 
ence. 

Mr. Kotzschmar's contributions to 
musical literature were neither numerous 
nor pretentious. They were the thoughts 
of his spare hours, his occasional recrea- 
tion from the arduous duties of his pro- 
fession, rather than a part of his serious 
life work; and they bore the stamp of 
youthful ideals rather than those of his 
more dazzling maturity. Sung by his 
sympathetic choir his hymns and anthems 
added dignity to the service of his church, 
and his piano compositions and songs 
graced many a social hour. Few of his 
published works have come down to us, 
but at least one of these has attained 
almost world-wide recognition. His life 
melody had the freshness of eternal 
youth or true genius, and when he con- 
fided his thoughts to paper they flowed 
with naive simplicity. It was Kotzsch- 
mar the man who wrote, not Kotzsch- 
mar the musician, and like himself his 
sketches bubbled over with kindly humor. 
In them we may read his appreciation of 
Nature, the song of the brook, the mur- 
mur of waves. He delighted to wander 
all day long beside trout streams or to 
angle idly from shady banks. Such men 



are always lovable, and when they speak 
to us in their hours of relaxation, 
whether in notes of music or in the less 
exact language of words, theirs is always 
a message of peace and purity to which 
we lend willing ears. If we knew naught 
of him save through these fragments of 
composition, we should still feel that his 
life had been pure, his nature guileless, 
his ideals lofty. To this we can add only 
that in all his outward relations, in the 
manifold interdependencies which build 
character, — as husband, father, friend, 
associate, citizen, — his life was worthy of 
emulation, and that he richly deserved 
the high esteem in which he was held. 

The influence of such a life cannot be 
measured. His career will pass into his- 
tory ; but the notes he played, the words 
of wisdom he spoke, the impulses for 
good which radiated from his life of ser- 
vice, will .endure in the souls which 
received from him the breath of musical 
life. Other fingers will draw music from 
his organ keys ; other batons will inspire 
uplifted voices in concerted song; other 
worthy men will uphold Music's stand- 
ard ; but the life of Hermann Kotzsch- 
mar will not have been lived in vain : 
There never shall be one lost good ! 
M* 
All we have willed or hoped or dreamed 

of good shall exist; 
Not its semblance, but itself ; no beauty 

nor good nor power 
Whose voice has gone forth, but each 

survives 
When eternity confirms the conceptions 

of an hour. 

The sun sinks slowly towards the west- 
ern horizon. Shadows lengthen ; clouds 
reflect the richer tints of sunset, and the 
air grows vibrant with the solemn 
cadence of day. Birds cease their noon- 
tide songs ; flowers are lulled to sleep in 
the drowsy stillness. Conflict is laid 
aside, and all Nature sinks to rest. So 
were the last years of his life. The 
lengthening shadows of approaching age 
softened his rugged outlines ; the light of 
another world reflected in his counten- 
ance, and his voice grew vibrant with the 
solemn cadence of life. Conflict he knew 
no more, for he had learned Life's lesson, 



HERMANN KOTZSCHMAR 369 

and he saw its perfect pattern where only made, 

tangled threads had heen. A "peace that Our times are in His hand 

passeth understanding" had entered his Who saith, "A whole* I planned; 

soul. The unity of God and Life and Youth shows but half; trust God, see all, 

Music had been revealed to him. To his nor be afraid." 

clearer vision the past had blended with And while he yet walked the last peace- 
time present into perfect harmony, and ful descent from the rriountain-top, the 
he understood and was satisfied. "Grow sun had set, and the pall of night began 
old along with me," — his was now the to sink softly, lovingly, over the luminous 
ripe wisdom of the seer : — twilight of old age, as 
Grow old along with me ; Slowly, by God's hand unfurled, 
The best is yet to be, Down around the weary world 
The last of life, for which the first was Falls the darkness. 



Ballad of Dickey=Bird 

By JAMES O'NEILL 

O foolish little Dickey-Bird, — 

Of all the birds I knew, 
You really were the most absurd, 

And most pathetic, too, 
What tempted you to build your nest, 

Inside our garden wall? 
For, easily you might have guessed 

What danger would befall, 
Pray, had you never seen the cat 

Steal by on silent feet? 
She saw you — there's no doubt of that 

But glanced aside — discreet. 
You finished your soft nest, I know, 

About the first of May, — 
Your husband helped, but he was slow. 

And mostly in the way, — 
And then, — it really seemed too soon, — 

Four little ones you had, — 
'Twas in the early part of June, 

And both of us were glad, 
And aye, there was another still, 

As glad as you or I, 
Who watched with purpose and with will, 

And cruel, subtle eye, 
You flew away in quest of food, — 

She crept beside the wall, — 
And you returned, — where was your brood? 

Not one was left of all ! 
And did this lesson make you wise? 

Nay, nay, 'twas quite in vain. — 
Next year you came, to my surprise, 

And lost your babes again ! 
So I must say poor Dickey-Bird, 

Wth all respect to you, 
Your actions are the most absurd, 

And most pathetic, too ! 



Alexander's Odes on the Generations 



of Man 



5 5 



By FREDERICK W. BURROWS 



A FRIEND of mine to whose 
judgment I would often gladly 
yield, were I not constitutionally 
too stubborn, urged me the other 
day, to read a recently published book of 
verse by Hartley Burr Alexander of the 
University of Nebraska. Now if there is 
one thing more damnable than another 
it is personally recommended verse. To 
survive that curse poetry must be poetry 
indeed. 

Half the pleasure of reading poetry 
lies in one's own discovery of its beauty, 
a pleasure somewhat akin, I fancy, to 
the original creation of it. The other 
half lies in the sympathetic sharing of 
one's discovery. When both of these are 
missing, only truly great verse can stand 
the test. I could no more enjoy a book 
of poems with notes to call my attention 
to their particular felicities than I could 
a landscape exploited by guide boards 
bearing such legends as "Note the weird 
effect of this dead branch against the 
sky," or "See reflection, very remark- 
able." And I think that all habitual 
readers of poetry must, by the same in- 
stinct, seek by-paths rather than high- 
ways for the pursuit of their quarry. 

Something of this decidedly egoistic 
delight in discovery I was still able to 
enjoy a trifle surreptitiously and as an 
aftermath to the reading of the book it- 
self. For if T was somewhat abashed 
from my first ardor upon learning that 
this all too slender volume had already 
enjoyed the distinction of "unusual 
praise" from "the critics," whoever they 
may be, T was somewhat rehabilitated 
into the role of bursting first into that 
silent sea by the further discovery, after 
very particular inquiry, that the volume 
370 



was not on sale in the book stalls of Bos- 
ton — "would be happy to send, etc." 
And I, underneath the hypocritical scowl 
which I assumed, was secretly elated that 
the buying public of Boston had not yet 
discovered and appropriated this garden 
spot, nor thrown their lunch baskets all 
over its emerald lawns and haunted 
groves. 

It puts me in the position of being able 
to say some rather sharp things to them 
for not having seen and not having en- 
joyed. 

I wonder if the day will ever return 
when the publication of a volume of 
genuinely great poetry will cause even a 
momentary ripple over any considerable 
area in the daily flow of events. Alex- 
ander's "Odes on the Generations of 
Man" (not the happiest of titles) is such 
a volume. It was published January a 
year ago, — and not a copy is on sale in 
the city of Boston ! The temptation is 
to make that the text and leave the verse 
to find its own way to the hearts of such 
as have them. This it is abundantly 
capable of doing, but the process is such 
a slow one. Besides, when a man has pub- 
lished a volume of verse he needs friends 
if he ever did in his life. And if there 
are any friends who ought to speak up it 
is those who have been made so and 
whose only thread of connection with the 
writer is the impersonal one created by 
the verse itself. 

"Odes on the Generations of Man" is 
not a happy title for a latter-day volume 
of verse. The word "Odes" has an 
academic sound that is forbidding to 
most, and the "Generations of Man" 
savors of unpleasant didactics. The un- 
favourable impression of the title is 



ALEXANDER'S "ODES ON THE GENERATIONS OF MAN" 371 



rather enhanced than otherwise by the 
prefatory note and its all too lame 
apology for the unnecessary use of the 
tempo indices of musical notation at the 
head of each division, or ode. Some- 
thing is wrong with the poem whose first 
lines do not set its own tempo, and if the 
trouble is with the reader, fool's guides 
will not set him right. The use of these 
indices throughout the volume, as "Pre- 
lude, Largo, Ode I, Andante fiorito," etc., 
is unpleasantly suggestive of affectation 
or even pedantic nicety. But this is 
nothing. It is like criticizing the front 
door of a house whose hospitality has 
cheered and comforted us. Once inside 
we forget the artificial graining or veneer 
or what-not of the offending front door. 
Within is the sound of music of chords 
struck with a firm, masculine hand like 
the grand minstrelsy of old. His mean- 
ing? That is as you will. He strikes 
certain chords with a clear, strong 
touch and the rest is with the reader. 
His are not the "universally human" 
chords, in the common sense of that 
rather vague phrase. But they are the 
cosmically human ones. It is a music 
that finds us as motes in the infinite 
whirl 

"Where to their slow extinguishment 
"Fall fated stars and the still years miss 
"All measurement." 

On all this, modern science has lifted 
the veil so convincingly that most of us 
have taken it rather to heart. Tlie utter 
cosmical insignificance of humanity 
appalls us. And the usual consolations 
are so baldly insufficient. Springing from 
those who have never felt the force of 
the truth they would palliate, what on 
earth is their use? Among these false 
consolers, these pretty singers of bygone 
prettinesses about a type of faith that 
never more can be, our poet is not to be 
numbered. 

His songs find us in "the mid-earth 
life. ,, 

They have looked backward and for- 
ward — backward to man's beginning 
when 

"In strange tropic forests he awoke 



"From the long, brute dream," 

and forward to that last earth-day when 

"The planet stays her nutrient yield 
"And the desert gates are sealed 

"On the last oasis of a dying continent." 

Through the eyes of the last man on 
that dying continent, his songs look back 
on the whole of human history, brief, 
fatuous. 

They sound the depths of our unhope 
and find something left. They search 
the offense of the human effort, un- 
cloak its bizarre passions, its restless mis- 
chievousness, its animal cruelty and from 
such unpromising parts construct a total 
that is softly and beautifully spiritual, a 
Vesper song of the test tubes, a reces- 
sional from the laboratory ! 

"Oh, the glittering things ye call real 

things, 
"And the glittering thoughts ye call 

truth, 
"They are trinkets and baubles and 

apings 
"For children and impotent shapings 
"Of the cowardly hearts that conceal 

things 

"Burdened with ruth." 

"They are weaves out of dream and 

illusion, 
"They are fabrics of mockery and cheat, 
"And their show is but shamming of 

graces, 
"And they stead ye in ruinous places. 
"And their w r ork is a work of confusion 
"Compact in deceit." 

"Yea, the glittering things ye call real 

things, 
"They are bauble and toy, they are 

dream, — 
"But the world that is real is another 
"Than this where we swelter and smother 
"And in tawdry and tinsel conceal things 
"Meant to redeem." 

"And the heart of the man that is fear- 
less, 
"And the vision of him that is wise. 
"They are strong unto Nature's revealing, 



372 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



"And he bursted the seals of her sealing, 
"And layeth her beauteous and peerless 
"Prone to his eyes." 

It is significant that a man should feel 
it in his heart to sing this — significant of 
our time and the stalwart faith with 
which it has learned to endure the probe 
of science. He has sung his monism 
into a better faith than itself. He finds 
us on our burnt out and slowly cooling 
cinder, earth, and leaves us no illusions 
about it but in the end makes us only the 
more divinely human. He knows the 
trial of our faith and therefore speaks 
with us and for us. 

The science of our day may be but a 
passing phase, but it is mightily convinc- 
ing in some of its utterances, and it has 
gripped the life of our day and mightily 
transformed it. It has changed the 
whole feeling of life. And that new feel 
of life — call it ephemeral if you will, is 
so adequately imagined in this book of 
Odes on the Generations of Man as to 
make it a very true and very genuine 
voice of our time. And the conclusion? 
There is none — or at least only a literary 
one, a satisfying of the canons of form, a 
structural completion, not a philosophical 
one. The nearest approach to this latter 
is in the sixth Ode on the Vision of the 
King of Pain, 

"The countless spirits of the hurts that 
men 

"Have suffered for the making of the 
world : 

"Harsh pangs of birth and grievings for 
the dead 

"And smarts of passion, and strain of 
them that strove 

"Till broken on the rack of their en- 
deavour, 

"And the wound of them that sought 

with sightless eyes." 
* # * # 

And I knew 
"The sovereign cost of life, and again I 



knew 
"The sovereign redemption; and I saw 
"How through the acting aeons still is 

paid 
"The price of beauty in a price of pain." 

The actual conclusion offered in the 
postlude is more after the manner of a 
musical return to theme than of a 
gathered result, and the entire poem is 
rather a musical movement than an 
argument. Indeed, artistically consid- 
ered, it is a question if too much has 
not been conceded by the poet to the 
demand for logical development and ar- 
gumentative conclusion. That which, at 
its best, the poem expresses is the total 
impression of the world-life of the 
modern scientific conception as it reacts 
on our emotional natures. It is in that 
utterance and in its beauty in detail that 
it appeals to us as a beautiful and noble 
poem. We find it stimulating and awak- 
ening intellectually rather than illuminat- 
ing, the voice of a singer rather than of a 
seer. 

Technically, his versification is more 
obediently formal than at first appears. 
Beneath its apparent structure one hears 
the lilt of the old stanzic forms. It is as if 
one should take the Eve of St. Agnes and 
redivide the lines according, to their 
secondary rather than their primary, or 
ostensible rhythm. And he is at his best 
in his most symmetrical stanza form, 
which^ is the more remarkable as his 
spirit is that of the emancipators whom 
he betters in freedom, a singer — a great 
singer, a voice of our time, and yet — the 
book is not on sale in Boston. Verily, we 
need to hear the call of his own 
dithyrambic interlude. 

"Awake ! For the white-pillared porches 
"Of dawn are flung open to-day ! 
"And the jubilant voices of morning 
"With laughter and boisterous warning 
"On, on through the azuring arches, 
"Summon away!" 




The evil that nature does lives after in 
the memories of men, "the good is oft 
interred with the dead leaves of the 
passing season. But, surely, among the 
grateful acknowledgments of blessings 
received which the Thanksgiving season 
forces through the thick skin of our self 
absorption, New England at least has, 
this year, to be grateful for the most 
genial and kindly Fall that our climate 
has known for many a season. No 
devastating storms, no untimely cold, no 
serious drought, but a nip of frost in the 
air at night, an occasional shower to 
moisten the earth and days like the most 
golden of October weather. This beau- 
tiful fall season succeeds a temperate and 
pleasant summer. It may be necessary 
yet to rewrite that portion of our litera- 
ture which so maligns the changeable- 
ness and' harshness of our climate. 

There has been a notable quickening of 
the pulse of business, and, in spite of the 
widely decried "high cost of living," the 
country is prosperous and this section 
particularly so. And never was it more 
apparent that this prosperity springs so 
largely from the bounties of Providence 
and so little from the wisdom of men. 
That man is indeed hopelesslv self- 
centered who cannot mingle a little of 
devotional feeling with the mastication 
of this year's Thanksgiving turkey . 



MR. MELLEN RENOUNCES 
POLIT T CS 
Quite the most interesting and signifi- 
cant word of the month is that of Presi- 
dent Mellen in which he pledges the 



Boston and Maine Railroad to keep their 
hands off New Hampshire politics. And 
now is New Hampshire pleased or dis- 
pleased ? How many are staring in hope- 
less dejection at that little sign hung up 
on the doors of the executive offices of 
the corporation that has so long enjoyed 
the unsavory reputation of "owning New 
Hampshire"? "We are not playing 
politics," cuts off so many little contribu- 
tions ! The gloom in the ranks of the 
politicians and grafters calls for the car- 
toonist's pencil to do it justice. And then 
there are those whose whole stock in 
trade, politically and commercially, has 
been opposition to the "iniquitous cor- 
poration." I know of one lawyer whose 
card has for years carried the legend, 
"not retained by railroads." What a 
disappointment to all this flourishing op- 
position ! They have what they claim to 
have wanted. Why don't we see a more 
eager throwing up of caps? 

This phase of the situation is only 
amusing. If President Mellen was not 
merely playing politics when he made his 
speech, if the Boston and Maine Railroad 
does cease from all unwholesome political 
activity in the Granite State, her own 
citizens will be astonished at the bright- 
ening of the state life all along the line. 
A sound foundation is the first require- 
ment of prosperity. The New England 
Magazine is ready to accept Mr. Mellen's 
statement at its face value and to hail 
him as a wise leader and true friend of 
good government. May his administra- 
tion of the great propertv committed to 
his care abundantly justify the hopeful 
auspices under which it begins. 

373 



374 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



OVER THE BORDER 

The Granite State is entirely too self- 
respecting a community to allow itself to 
become an over-the-border harbour for 
the evil doers of the large cities situated 
so near to the state line. The astounding 
situation revealed by the investigations of 
Miss Mary Boyle O'Reilly and described 
in the New England Magazine for 
October and November should be the im- 
mediate subject of corrective legislation. 
Let New Hampshire say with no uncer- 
tain voice, "You must not send your 
wickedness over here to soil our good 
name and contaminate us with vices that 
do not originate within our borders." It 
is incredible that a state with the noble 
history of New Hampshire will take any 
other stand, not only in regard to this, 
but all similar just-over-the-border 
troubles. Miss O'Reilly should be looked 
upon, not as the traducer of the state, but 
as its warm friend and helper, and her 
work should be met with grateful ap- 
preciation. 



A PROGRESSIVE CITY 

Quaint, puritanical Salem, known to 
fame as the "Witch City," reposing 
peacefully in the shadow of Gallows Hill, 
rich in historic lore, the birthplace of 
Nathaniel Hawthorne, who first saw the 
light of day in the then conservative old 
Salem of over one hundred years ago. 
What changes have taken place since 
then ! Salem has not allowed herself to 
sink into oblivion but has gone steadily 
onward and the year 1910 has been a 
singularly successful one, a veritable 
record-breaker, and a year of still greater 
piosperity is predicted for 1911. 

Quietly, tranquilly, Salem has kept 
pace with the march of time. When, 
presto! The beginning of the year 1910 
brought great changes to the old Witch 
City, and the calm of years was broken, 
and the city aroused as never before since 
the old witchcraft days and once again 
the country became aware that old 
historic Salem still existed and that 
modern Salem is in a state of rapid pro- 
gression. 

For some time past the good citizens of 



Salem have been making elaborate plans 
for improving the water-front, but as 
yet no definite steps have been taken by 
the city, although several individual 
plants have built sea walls. 

The Salem Gas Light Company has 
recently built a sea-wall and is increasing 
its plant. The Naumkeag Steam Cotton 
Company is also building a sea-wall, and 
has greatly increased the value of land 
on the harbor front by filling land behind 
them and erecting new buildings thereon. 

The Salem Electric Lighting Company 
is enlarging its plant and laying plans for 
a new sea-wall, and aspires to supply all 
the manufacturing plants with electric 
power. 

A much-needed improvement in the 
elimination of the old-time grade cross- 
ings is afoot. The people of Salem are 
looking forward with pleasurable an- 
ticipation to the time when all grade 
crossings will be abolished. 

The Boston & Eastern railroad pro- 
poses to spend a large sum in providing a 
new means of transportation for Salem 
and vicinity, which will be of great 
benefit to the manufacturing interests, 
and it is sincerely hoped that nothing 
will interfere with the consummation of 
these plans. 

The S. E. Cassino Co., publishers of 
several first-class magazines, have made 
an extensive addition to their already 
well-equipped printing plant, and in- 
stalled new machinery. 

Four fine large pharmacies, two 
modern bank buildings, and the complete 
remodeling of a third, a number of new 
shoe factories, a new plant for the manu- 
facture of marine motors, now in process 
of construction, and a new stone church, 
a model of architectural beauty, also in 
the construction state, is Salem's business 
record for the past year. 

Within the past two years Salem has 
added to her already large list of fine 
buildings, a new State Armory and model 
High School building. 

Two daily newspapers flourish and are 
well patronized by the merchants of Sa- 
lem. For some time the city could boast 
of but one daily, and, as a stranger to the 
city once remarked, "It did seem a pity 
that a city the size of Salem could sup- 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



375 



port but one daily paper." But the keen, 
far-seeing business men of the city, 
knowing that competition stimulates 
business enterprise and that the city 
ought to have at least two newspapers, 
rallied nobly to the support of both. 
Thereby showing that Salem had de- 
parted from the spirit of narrow con- 
servatism that nearly two hundred and 
eighty years ago drove Roger Williams 
from its doors, and was growing more 
liberal and cosmopolitan each year. 



the respect and good-will of the publish- 
ing community to an unusual degree, and 
the Boston Herald is fortunate in secur- 
ing so able a man as its new editor. 



ALL EYES ON THE TARIFF COM- 
MISSION. 

Tariff reform is quiet but not quiescent. 
The situation is one of expectation, with 
all eyes on the Tariff Commission, and 
the temper of the community is such that 
this body is likely to make or break itself 
by its first action. If it shall yield to 
popular outcry and make some grand- 
stand play, it will lose the confidence of 
the business community and be regarded 
as a mischievous creation. If, on the 
other hand, it shall merely temporize and 
put off with fair words the hopes of the 
people, its doom is swift and sure. What 
is demanded is just what was promised, 
a judicial body acting fearlessly but in a 
thorough and scientific spirit. 



THE BOSTON TRANSCRIPT 
MAKES MR. TRACY EDITOR 

The appointment of Frank Basil Tracy 
to the editorship of the Boston Trans- 
cript, a position made vacant by the resig- 
nation of Robert Lincoln O'Brien, is a 
well-earned promotion of one of the most 
efficient members of the Transcript staff. 

As editor of the Magazine Department 
of the Transcript, Mr. Tracy has long 
had charge of one of the most distinctive 
features of the paper. No man could be 
found better able to speak for the Tran- 
script's constituency and voice their sen- 
timent. A thoroughly trained journalist, 
a clear and straightforward writer, his 
judgement is sure and firm, and the 
development of the editorial page of the 
Transcript in his hands will be worth 
watching. 

Mr. O'Brien, his predecessor, has won 



NEW FOOTBALL FAILS TO 
PLEASE 

As the New England Magazine pre- 
dicted from the beginning, the failure of 
the new foot-ball rules becomes more and 
more apparent as the season progresses. 
The scores do not accurately reflect the 
relative strength of the teams, and to 
scores are frequent between teams that 
are plainly not so evenly matched as that 
result would indicate. The game is un- 
balanced. The officials are over-worked 
and placed in a position of the utmost 
difficulty and delicacy. It is to be hoped 
that Mr. Houghton, upon whom the 
responsibility for the new rules prin- 
cipally rests, will have the grace to admit 
his mistakes and not throw the powerful 
influence of Harvard University into a 
false attitude. The coquetting of Har- 
vard with Princeton and dallying with 
Dartmouth does not add to the graceful- 
ness of the present Harvard attitude. 
The Dartmouth game should be retained. 



PILGRIM PUBLICITY BANQUETS 

The Pilgrim Publicity Association for- 
mally opened the year of 1910-1911 with 
the "New England Night" on October 
21st. A conference was held in the after- 
noon between the Association and 
representatives of various civic organiza- 
tions throughout New England, and at 
the evening banquet the "New England 
spirit" was fostered by Bernard J. Roth- 
well, President Boston Chamber of Com- 
merce, C. E. Bosworth of Springfield, 
E. F. Trefz of Chicago, Joe Mitchell 
Chappie, Publisher National Magazine. 

Mr. Rothwell spoke of the new spirit 
which has come to stay and has already 
worked wonders in the six eastern states. 
He called attention to the industrial sur- 
vey which the Chamber of Commerce has 
been making of the eastern half of 
Massachusetts as representative of New 
England, and stated that it exhibited a 
wonderful degree of steadily progressive 



376 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



prosperity which is built along lines of 
assured permanence. "The New Eng- 
land factory mark denotes the last word, 
in material, design, novelty workmanship 
and utility. It must mean freedom from 
shoddy or pretense. It must mean hon- 
esty visible and invisible. This accom- 
plished we shall remain supreme in the 
industrial arts. Then must the heralds 
of commerce of whom the Pilgrim 
Publicity Association constitutes so im- 
portant a contingent unfold to the world 
at large, the wonders which our artisans 
have wrought and lure within our gates 
the eager buyers of 90,000,000 of the 
highest powered purchasers the world has 
ever known." 

Mr. Bosworth called attention to the 
close relationship and uniform develop- 
ment of New England's agriculture, 
transportation and manufactures. 

Mr. Trefz spoke of New England as i 
garden spot hampered only by this in- 
grained conservatism and prophesied that 
the spirit of "get-together" and "team 
work" would accomplish great things. 

Mr. Chappie stated that the average 
price of farm-land in Massachusetts was 
$7.50 an acre and that the land was rich 
for tillage, and asked why New England- 
ers should dream of going to the West 
for cheap land ; and although Rhode 
Island is the most densely populated state 
in the Union, it has a larger percentage of 
undeveloped farm-land than any state in 
the Union. 

The whole sentiment of the meeting 
which was attended by the largest num- 
ber of members of any dinner of the 
Association, was one of undivided en- 
thusiasm and presages the great work to 
be done in the coming months and years 
by the Pilgrim Publicity Association in 
building up New England and in getting 
New England to let the rest of the world 
know its advantages both natural and 
commercial and the advantages of its 
manufactured products. 




William Gillette in repertoire at the 



Mollis, Seven Days at the Park, Mont- 
gomery and Stone at the Colonial, The 
Chocolate Soldier at the Majestic, 
Sothern and Marlowe in Shakesperean 
repertoire, at the Schubert, The Fortune 
Hunter at the Tremont and Sherlock 
Holmes at the Boston Theatre, make a 
very strong list of November attractions 
at the Boston theatres. 

Such an array emphasizes anew that 
Boston, in the matter of theatrical art 
has reached thoroughly Metropolitan 
proportions. The simultaneous support 
of these leading attractions of the season 
gives evidence of a play-going public 
drawn from a very wide area. 

William Gillette is to appear in his 
leading successes, such as Sherlock 
Holmes, Secret Service, Held by the 
Enemy, Too Much Johnson, The Private 
Secretary, Clarice, etc., and each produc- 
tion is presented with specially engaged 
casts, and entirely new scenic effects. It 
is very probable that this will be the last 
opportunity to see Gillette, whose work 
ranks as one of the classics of the 
American stage. 

Mr. Gillette is the creator of the stage- 
land Sherlock Holmes and his work in 
that character stands in a class by itself. 
Held by the Enemy is the play which for 
twenty years he has produced regularly 
and in all parts of the world and yet, 
starnge to say, this is his first appearance 
in the play personally. 

"Seven Days" is capital farce. It is a 
play for those who love to laugh long and 
loud. The cast includes Georgia 
O'Ramey, Hope Latham, Florence Reed, 
Lucille La Verue, Albert Brown, Allan 
Pollock and others who are setting a 
standard in the presentation of this kind 
of comedy. 

"The Chocolate Soldier" is an entirely 
unique production and its presentation 
at the Majestic has been universally en- 
joyed. The musical quality of the piece 
is decidedly above the average, and the 
management have shown their recogni- 
tion of this fact by selecting a cast of 
singers as well as actors. The chorus, 
also, is of unusually excellent material, 
and the success of the play is substantial- 
ly founded on the genuine merits of its 
production. Of Sothern and Marlowe 



IX \K\\ K.V.L.W'I) 



377 




William Gillette now appearing at the Hollis 



in Shakespearean role, it is unnecessary 
to do more than make the announcement, 
of their engagement. This begins at the 
Shubert Theatre November 14, and the 
engagement will last for three weeks. 
During the entire first week including 
the Saturday matinee the new produc- 
tion of "Macbeth" will be given. For the 
second week "As You Like It," on Mon- 
day, Tuesday and "Wednesday evening 
and Thursday, Thanksgiving Day 



matinee ; "Romeo and Juliet" on Thurs- 
day and Friday evenings and at their 
Saturday matinee, and "Hamlet" Satur- 
day night. For the third week "Taming 
of the Shrew" is scheduled for Monday 
and Tuesday evenings, "The Merchant 
of Venice" for Wednesday and Thurs- 
day, "Twelfth Night" for Friday, "As 
You Like It" at the Saturday matinee 
and "Macbeth" Saturday night. Sub- 
scription blanks containing all informa- 



378 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 




The Famous Letter Song from "The Chocolate Soldier" 



tion relative to the engagement may now 
be secured at the box office. 

"The Fortune Hunter" is nearing the 
end of its second month at the Tremont 
Theatre, with no indication of a lessening 
in public interest. With John Barry- 
more in the title role the company in 



support is made up of fine actors. The 
rehabilitation of the young Nat Dun- 
can, who has failed in all his efforts to 
make his own way in the world, is the 
real basis of the story of the play, though 
it is neatly hidden by the many interest- 
ing incidents and situations. The other 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



379 



characters are played by Forrest Rob- 
inson, Francis Byrne, Mary Ryan, Eda 
Bruna, Kathryn Marshall, Charles 
Fisher and John C. Brownell. 

Never in the old days at the Boston 
Theatre, where it had so many successful 
melodramas, has there been a play that 
sprang into such immediate favor as 
"The Speckled Band." The reception of 
this play shows that Sherlock Holmes has 
not lost his grip upon the public. The 
vast audience that rilled the Boston 
Theatre on the opening night were so 
deeply interested that they were held 
spellbound to the very end of the play. 

At the Colonial Theatre "The Arca- 
dians" positively closes Saturday night, 
the 12th of November. No play in the 
city has been so universally commented 
on as "The Arcadians." If there are any 
who have not seen the production, they 
should not delay to order their seats be- 
fore this positively closing date. "The 
Arcadians" will be followed by Mont- 
gomery and Stone, who open on the 14th 
with "The Old Town," and the cast that 
has brought them success. Montgomery 
and Stone are a fixture in popular es- 
teem. They have set their own standard 
and consistently lived up to it. The people 
know what to expect and are quick in 
showing their appreciation of the fact. 

Shakespeare has always succeeded at 
the Castle Square. Last season "Ham- 
let," "The Taming of the Shrew" and 
"Othello" were played to large and ap- 
preciative audiences, and now for the 
first time this season, Mr. Craig will 
make a Shakespearean production. He 
has chosen "Richard III." as one of the 
most notable of the great dramas by the 
master dramatist and he is sure that the 
revival of so rarely produced a play will 
arouse more than ordinary attention. 
"Richard III." has for its leading char- 
acter the great Duke of Gloster, who won 
the throne for himself after persistent 
efforts in which he stopped at nothing to 
reach the height of his ambition, and the 
play itself forms a vivid and picturesque 
narrative of the most interesting episodes 
of his career. 

The part of Richard will be played by 
Mr. Craig for the first time in a number 
of years, and he will bring to it all his 



well known skill at character interpreta- 
tion. The role is one of great finesse and 
varying emotion, and to many of his ad- 
mirers it will display Mr. Craig in an 
entirely new light. The other parts will 
be carefully assigned to Mr. Craig's as- 
sociate players, and the scenic production 
will be elaborate and historically faithful. 
The run of "Richard III." will be limited 
to a single week. 

After "Richard III," Mr. Craig will 
present "Going Some" during the week 
of November 14, "The Lion and the 
Mouse" for two weeks, begining Novem- 
ber 21, and "Twelth Night" during the 
week of December 5. 



THE SIGNIFICANCE OF 
PAGEANTRY 

Louis W. Parker, English playwright 
and musical director, the "dean of 
English pageantry" came to America 
about a year ago and was impressed with 
the possibilities of pageantry in the 
country. It was partly due to the interest 
that he aroused in this subject while in 
Boston that plans were laid for the 
pageant, "From Cave Life to City Life," 
to be presented by Boston-1905 in the 
Arena November 10, 11 and 12. 

One of the most striking features of 
this Boston pageant will be the contrasts 
shown between old and new educational 
methods. The "Dame School" of the 
colonies which brought together a few of 
the children of the church to be instructed 
in the three Rs will be depicted along 
with modern school training with its 
thousand and one privileges and ad- 
vantages unknown even to the colleges of 
the old days. 

The pageant itself is a striking ex- 
ample of a new educational force that is 
just awakening in this country. Through 
its means young and old, actors and spec- 
tators take added pride in the com- 
munity's growth and strength. Acquaint- 
ances spring up which bind together dis- 
tricts not closely related before. The 
pageant is furthermore an excellent 
school for the development of the arts 
and crafts and gives wonderful op- 
portunity for the exhibition of the skill 
and talent of those who have not had op- 



380 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



portunity to show what they could do. 
Historians, poets, composers, craftsmen, 
singers, dancers and artists are discover- 
ed through its means. 

The Boston-1915 pageant is more or 
less of an experiment. Its success, which 
seems assured, means that this newest 
educational tool will be adopted in other 
portions of the country. 




The art community of Boston will 
receive a very promising accession to its 
numbers when Mr. Gail Stearns opens 
his permanent studio here, after a period 
of preliminary training in New York 
and Paris and of general travel and 
study. 

"Promise" is the brightest word in the 
lexicon of art, and it is just the word to 
apply to such work as that of Mr. 
Stearns, as revealed in the landscape 
sketches which have been seen here and 
in the very effective decorative paintings 
for the walls of the dining room in the 
Commonwealth Avenue residence of Mrs. 
Charles W. Bard. 

As revealed in this work, Mr. Stearns 
is extremely sensitive to the more tender 
moods of the great world of out-of-doors. 
As a colourist he is luminous and opales- 
cent, delicate rather than strong. There 
is a latent poetry in his work, a dreamy, 
brooding poetry like that of indeterminate 
music. Therefore he loves soft shadows 
that melt almost imperceptibly into the 
more vivid light, and misty distances. 
The earth which he paints is maturing, 
moist, in process of transition. His tech- 
nique is swift and direct and will become 
less hesitating with greater familiarity 
portunity, and, as is usual with artists, 
with important work. He needs his op- 
he will probably be compelled to hew 
out that opportunity for himself. The 
process may give him a larger svmpathv 
with the sterner aspects of life and 
nature than he would seem, from these 
sketches, to possess at present. I wonder 
how Boston appears to an eager and 



aspiring artist fighting for his chance. 
Possibly it may merit its reputation of 
coldness. But it is difficult to appear 
otherwise, and to demand substantial ac- 
complishment is necessary. But there is 
sympathy enough, at bottom, here in 
Boston for the struggling artist to nerve 
him to his best endeavors, if he can but 
appreciate and believe in its existence. A 
number of Mr. Steam's sketches are in 
Doll and Richards gallery on Newbury 
street and will be shown on request. 

A very pretty compliment to Mr. 
Frank H. Tompkins is implied in his in- 
vitation to exhibit his work in the city of 
Cleveland, where he made his home for 
some years. Cleveland claims part of the 
credit for Mr. Tompkins' success, and 
this very gratifying recognition is, in 
part, an assertion of that claim. In the 
way of new work he will take with him 
several strong portraits painted with 
great force and vitality. It is to be hoped 
that he will not fail, also, to exhibit some 
of his recent sketches of landscapes with 
buildings and figures. This is a line 
in which Mr. Tompkins excels, his 
draughtsmanship being swift and sure 
and his work done with that lightning 
speed which can catch the most fleeting 
impression. 

Mr. Darius Cobb is receiving con- 
gratulations on the noble conception of 
his large canvass, The Last Decoration 
Day. It is in this mental grasp of a 
grand subject that this aged artist earns 
a gladly accorded admiration. 




An interesting bit of criticism appeared 
in Le Paris Temps. Pierre Lalo, son of 
the distinguished composer of that name 
who is music critic for Le Temps, says 
the following concerning Caruso : "Take 
away his voice and he is nothing. He is 
neither a good singer nor a good actor. 
Of the art of singing, Caruso has never 
possessed anything but the most mediocre 
and vulgar parts, — how to spin out a 
song, prepare a cadence, multiply the 
opposition of shades, and accomplish all 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



381 




Jaroslav Kocian, Bohemian Violin Virtuoso 



sorts of voice effects out of place. Along 
with these voice effects, isolated and 
factitious — nothing. No taste, no style, 
no appearance of style, absolute incapab- 
ility of giving to a melody that has any 
beauty of form or line, the continuity 
which belongs to it." 

A new pianist will visit America this 
season. His name is Adolphe Borchard. 
This French artist will make his debut 



with the Thomas Orchestra and will tour 
America in recital. He seems to have 
completely astounded the Berlin critics 
and if their unanimous and enthusiastic 
commendation is to be credited, he is a 
rare artist. He is spoken of as a born in- 
terpreter of Liszt. Another criticism 
mentions his playing a Chopin prelude in 
such an unusual and compelling way that 
the audience was actually taken off its 



382 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



feet. His programs are almost entirely 
made up from the classics but invariably 
include one or two modern things. He 
is spoken of as a masterful virtuoso and 
an original interpreter of the masters. 
He will be heard in Boston in a piano 
recital in Jordan Hall on Monday after- 
noon, November 28th. 

A big success was scored by Rudolph 
Ganz recently in Berlin. He gave a con- 
cert in Beethoven Hall, assisted by the 
Philharmonic Orchestra with Dr. 
Rudolph Siegel of Munich as conductor. 
Mr. Ganz played the new D Major Con- 
certo by Hans Huber, which is dedicated 
to him and with which he made such a 
rousing success at the Zurich Music 
Festival last spring. It is said to be a 
very brilliant concerto. The scherzo is 
spoken of as sprightly and charming. The 
slow movement is full of beauties and the 
finale is sparkling and full of life and 
vigor. The work is beautifully instru- 
mentated and it reveals admirable work- 
manship. Mr. Ganz's playing was 
sparkling and bubbling' over with esprit 
and vivacity in the quick movements, 
while in the adagio he played with a 
beautiful singing legato and with a great 
deal of feeling. Mr. Arthur Abell says 
Mr. Ganz gave a truly wonderful per- 
formance of the work; also, that he has 
improved tremendously since his last ap- 
pearance here. His touch is spoken of 
as softer and more appealing. His per- 
formance of the Liszt E Flat Concerto is 
spoken of as magnificent. His success 
was immense. 

Mr. Ganz is one of the truly great 
pianists. He has a complete mastery of 
the art of pianism as a means of artistic 
expression. Beside this he is endowed 
with a psychological and . human inter- 
pretation of life which is so forceful that 
those who look for placid sweetness and 
who do not realize that the greatest 
emotion is intellect plus passion, are 
liable to be overwhelmed by this great- 
ness and wonder if it be chaos. Mr. 
Ganz will visit America next season. 

One of the rare treats of the musical 
year is the annual work of the Cecilia 
Society. The concerts will number three 
in all this year and orders for season 
tickets are being filled. At each concert 



the Cecilia Society will be assisted by 
the entire Symphony Orchestra and Max 
Fiedler will conduct. The first concert 
will be on Thursday, December 1st when 
Granville Bantock's Omar Khayam will 
be given for the first time in Boston. The 
soloists will be Margaret Keyes, George 
Harris, Jr., and Robert Maitland. On 
Thursday, February 16th, will be given 
Gabriel Pierne's "Children's Crusade." 
The soloists will be Corinne Rider-Kel- 
sey, Edith Chapman Goold, Edmond 
Clement and Claude Cunningham. On 
Good Friday evening, April 14th, The 
Passion Music, according to St. Mat- 
thew, by Johann Sebastian Bach, will be 
given. The soloists will be Marie Zim- 
merman, George Hamlin, Janet Spencer 
and David Bispham. 

At each concert there will be a chorus 
of one hundred and seventy-five voices, 
a children's chorus of one hundred voices, 
and the regular Boston Symphony 
Orchestra of one hundred players. 

The Flonzaley Quartet recently cre- 
ated a furore in Berlin with a magnificent 
performance of the DeBussy Quartette. 
This is without doubt the finest string 
quartette in existence at the present time. 
The Flonzaley Quartette is thehighestpaid 
quartette which plays in America. Aside 
from its eminently artistic superiority it 
is a unique organization — being actually 
founded with real art purpose. Not one 
of the four players, — each a consummate 
artist — could be engaged, for money or 
for otherwise, for individual perform- 
ance. The quartet was founded at Le 
Chateau Flonzaley near Lauzanne, 
Switzerland, by E. J. de Coppet, solely 
for the sake of art. It is exceptional as 
an organization inasmuch as all the play- 
ers are free from material occupation 
and devote their time exclusively to the 
cultivation of chamber music. The 
quartet appeared for the first time in 
public in November, 1905, in Switzer- 
land. They were originally brought 
together by M. Coppet solely for per- 
formance at his villa Le Flonzaley. 
They will be heard in Boston this season. 



Jaroslav Kocian, the Bohemian violin- 
ist, will give a recital in Chickering Hall. 
December 9th. 



IN NEW ENGLAND 



383 



On the afternoon of Tuesday, Novem- 
ber 29th, Madame Schumann-Heinck, 
the great contralto who is loved - by all, 
will give a song recital in Symphony Hall. 
Emilio de Gogorza, the baritone who 
recently appeared as soloist at the first 
Apollo Club concert, will give a song 
recital in Jordan Hall the afternoon of 
November 21st. 




An attractive handy volume edition of 
Sarah Orne Jewett. 

The short stories of Sarah Orne 
Jewett are brought out by Houghton, 
Mifflin and Company, in an attractive 
handy volume series, and no more suit- 
able form could well be devised for their 
enjoyment. The collection in attractive 
library form of Miss Jewett's work will 
meet an inevitable and continuing de- 
mand. Miss Jewett's work amounts to a 
scientific study of the rural New England 
type that is so rapidly passing away. Its 
value in this respect is permanent. Her 
portraiture is as subtle as it is just. Not 
history, but the foundations of history 
are brought to light. The volumes are as 
illuminating to the student as they are 
delightful to the reader who is seeking 
only entertainment. Whimsical humor, 
poignant pathos, deliciously human situa- 
tions abound. Sincerity and grace, the 
atmosphere of the author's own per- 
sonality, pervade the work. These stories 
have long been the delight of magazine 
readers and their availability in a per- 
manent library form will be most wel- 
come. The volumes are very attractive 
and are so published that they may be 
bought singly without the appearance of 
a broken set. The selling price is 70 
cents per volume. 



"Lips of Music" is the title of a book 
of poems by Charlotte Porter. This author 
has been best known as editor of Shakes- 
peare's work and of the Camberwe!) 
Browning. "Lips of Music" is a collection 
of one hundred and fifty poems, some of 
which have appeared as magazine verse. 



The book includes several poems which 
have been set to music by various com- 
posers, translations from D'Annunzio 
and the Epilogue Songs from the 
"Return of the Druses," — also one from 
Rostand. 

The poems are, in the main lyrical. 
They are full of a certain practiced skill 
which many times is even spontaneous. 
"The Sea Gull" is a charming wood- 
picture which contains considerable feel- 
ing and freedom. "The Beat of a 
Wing" accomplishes much the same 
thing. "Daylight" is an interpretation 
which has considerable human feeling 
woven into its meshes, — likewise 
"Aware" seems more sincere than some 
of the others. It has been said that Miss 
Porter's poetry shows the effect of asso- 
ciation with Browning. If so it is merely 
affected, slightly the mode of expression. 
The Epilogue Songs accomplish only 
partial interpretation. At times the ac- 
complishment seems only affectation and 
effete sestheticism. At times the demands 
of form are satisfied by meaningless 
euphonism. 

However, it is a very attractive volume 
and, in several instances, better than the 
ordinary verse. The book is published 
by Thomas Y. Crowell and Company at 
$1.25 net; postage 10 cents. 



CHESS GENERALSHIP 

Chess players in general and especially 
all who are interested in the study of war 
and warfare, will read with much satis- 
faction the latest work by the noted chess 
master and military expert, Mr. Franklin 
K. Young. 

From a remote period Chess has been 
regarded as the reduplica of warfare and 
its practice enjoined upon their officers 
by the leading exponents of the military 
art. Hence it is logical that the funda- 
mental and essential processes of eacn 
are identical. This is the drift of Mr. 
Young's teachings as embodied in his 
prior books on the game. His exposition 
of scientific chessplay culminates in this 
present series of three volumes, whose 
sub-titles are, Volume I., Grand Recon- 
naissance, Volume II, Grand Manoeuvres, 
Volume III, Grand Operations, of which 



384 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



Volume I, Grand Reconnaissance, is now 
on sale. 

In this book the military phase of 
chess-play is dominant ; its obvious pur- 
pose is to make a good chess player by 
first making a good general, and all ex- 
amples and illustrations are drawn from 
the more notable battles and campaigns 
of the great captains. 

The value to chess players of any book 
on the game by Mr. Young needs no ar- 
gument. The originality and ingenuity 
whereby military processes are adapted 
to the chess board make the work unique 
in literature and as an epitome of wide 
and interesting military knowledge the 
work undoubtedly will appeal to a clientele 
far beyond the limitations of the or- 
dinary chess field. 

Eight volumes, cloth, stamped and 
edged in gold, 230 pages, $1.75 net. In- 
ternational Publishing Company, Boston. 



"PAN'S MOUNTAIN" 

From the old Virginian mansions of 
"The Quick or the Dead?" and "The 
Golden Rose" to the azure Italian skies 
over Lago Maggiore is a far cry. Years 
of loving familiarity with the beautiful 
scenes of Northern Italy have enabled 
Amelie Rives (Princess Troubetzkoy) to 
reproduce the color and spirit and at- 
mosphere of the Lago Maggiore district 
in her latest novel, "Pan's Mountain" 
(Harper & Brothers, New York). Bril- 
liant qualities, in which literary expres- 
sion and poetic imagination are felicit- 
ously wedded, give rare distinction to this 
exceptional piece o fmodern fiction. The 
conception is one of those rare instances 
of originality to be found among the 
thousand or more novels in the English 
language published annually. 

Princess Troubetzkoy portrays a girl 
of exotic personality in "Dione, whose 
mother was Italian and her father a Ser- 
vian. Under her father's guidance Dione 
grew up a pure pagan, imbued with the 
spirit of Greek poetry and mystically 
devoted to the worship of the old gods. 
Especially she has chosen Pan as her 
protecting deity, and she has named one 
of the peaks near her home Pan's Moun- 
tain. Dione is endowed with splendid 



purity, sincerity and capacity of hap- 
piness ; but the reader insensibly feels 
that the pagan girl born 2000 years out of 
her time is doomed to disappointment and 
that the shadow of tragedy hangs over 
her. 

Dione is a beautiful girl, but boyish in 
her straightforward disposition, fine 
spirited and independent. Her supersti- 
tious old Italian nurse, Cecca, regards 
with holy horror Dione's mystic worship 
of Pan, to whom the girl prays and pours 
libations. Yet the girl finds in Cecca's 
own signs and omens confirmation of her 
Paganism. A foppish young Italian 
named Varoni is an ardent suitor for 
Dione, but she has nothing for him but 
contempt, because he is of the type who 
wears extravagant English clothes and 
sends his linen to London to be laun- 
dered. 

Along comes Alaric Kent, an English 
poet, who, like herself, has absorbed the 
pagan spirit of the Greeks and in his 
poetic way is a worshipper of Pan. With 
all the intensity of their natures they fall 
in love and give themselves up to its pas- 
sion and happiness. Not until too late, 
when motherhood has come to poor 
Dione, does Alaric Kent reveal to her the 
tragic fact that he is not free to marry 
her, being already married. This leads to 
a climax of masterly contrivance. The 
mystical Dione, obsessed by the ruling 
idea of her pagan life, gradually loses her 
sanity. With persuasive cunning, she 
manages to bring Alaric Kent to Pan's 
Mountain at night and deliver him as a 
sacrifice to the great god Pan of their 
common worship. But how this is 
brought about without any sense of 
depression to the reader, though with a 
tender feeling of the poignant pathos of 
it all, cannot fairly be indicated in a few 
lines of description. 

The poetry and mysticism that runs 
through the book sustain the sense of 
beauty, but never prevent a full realiza- 
tion of the characters as living, sentient 
human beings, whose aspirations and 
ideas can be readily understood and ap- 
preciated. Before the story ends the 
reader and Dione are both made aware 
that the young Italian, Varoni has a heart 
of gold. 





attu, 





(T^ 







■ liWIMiill 



cr?isfSG- 



wmammmmm 



Mitb Best TCMsbes foi a 
Mappig Bew Jl)ear! 

Again the publishers of the New England are presenting 
their readers with a greatly enlarged and radically improved 
magazine. 

It is our earnest hope that this new feature, the publication 
of a complete novel in each issue, not taking the space of other 
matter, but as an addition to the book, will meet with so cordial 
a reception as to justify us in its continuance. We are not 
aware that any other general magazine selling for fifteen cents 
undertakes this feature. 

From a literary standpoint the field of the long short-story 
is an inviting one; but publishing conditions have greatly 
retarded its development. It is our belief, therefore, that this 
experiment by the New England Magazine will be as warmly 
welcomed by writers as by readers. At any rate we are planning 
to try it out, and we should be glad to hear from our readers 
about it. 

The installation of new machinery by our printers enables 
us, at the same time, to introduce modern color zvork into our 
covers, illustrations and decorations. This we hope to develop 
to the embellishment and enrichment of our pages. Carefully 
retaining the best of that which has gone before, it is our 
intention that these and all other new developments shall be 
introduced without the sacrifice of any of those features which 
have, in the past, made the New England Magazine a welcome 
visitor in so many homes. 

THE PUBLISHERS. 







INTRODUCTION 



HE summer of the 
year 1692 will never 
be forgotten by 
Salemites, although 
more than two cen- 
turies have flown. 
Throughout the com- 
munity there was a deep-seated con- 
viction that Satan was visibly among 
them, walking their streets, in their 
houses, roaming the forests, and even in 
the sanctuary. 

No less a man than Cotton Mather 
declared in a sermon that in the very 
meeting-house where they were then 
gathered, there were more emissaries of 
Satan than the number of the congrega- 
tion. 

From the highest to the lowest, all 
believed in his personal presence and 
agency. Neither magistrate, minister, 
citizen, nor slave had the slightest doubt 
of it, and he who questioned was looked 
upon by friends and neighbors with the 
same degree of aversion and distrust with 
which the heretic had always been 
regarded by the orthodox. 

Belief in demonology and witchcraft 
has existed from the earliest recorded 
times among savage and civilized, and 
the more widely spread became the 
Christian religion with its sharp differen- 
tiation of the power that makes for good, 
and the power that makes for evil, into 
the conception of a concrete, personal 



God, and a personal devil, the more in- 
tense became the belief in the warfare 
waged between the two for the posses- 
sion of human souls. 

Hand in hand with this belief was the 
conviction that the devil must have 
human agents, and that these were em- 
ployed by him to work his will upon the 
innocent, as marauding bands of an ill- 
disciplined army harry and torture the 
helpless and peaceful inhabitants of a 
country with whom they may be at war. 

It was believed that these human 
agents had been bought by him for a 
price, some bargain, whereby for the 
gratification of some earthly desire, prop- 
erty, power, love, vengeance, they were 
willing to give him in exchange the 
ultimate possession of their souls. 

History is replete with instances of this 
belief. These were the so-called witches, 
and to find them out, to convict them, to 
make them suffer all the contumely, 
scorn and ignominy that a human being 
can know, all the torture that a fiendish 
ingenuity can contrive, and at last to be 
put to a shameful death, became a pious 
duty. Not only were the victims con- 
demned to a felon's death, but they were 
denied Christian burial and interment, 
their bodies being thrown among rocks, 
brambles and refuse, to become the prey 
of beasts and fowl. 

The horrors of the inquisition pale 
beside the tragedies enacted in the Mass- 

387 



388 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



achusetts colony. From the former, 
there was always escape by recantation. 
From the latter, there was none. Once 
accused, the victim was hounded with a 
relentlessness of which only man is cap- 
able. The plea of guilty carried with it 
its own condemnation. The plea of not 
guilty availed no more, for those in 
charge of the prosecution had pre-deter- 
mined, and though the form of trial was 
had, saintly men and holy women were 
convicted and put to death on the 
evidence of hysterical children, who, 
prompted and incited by clergymen and 
magistrates, gave utterance to the wildest 
and most imaginative of statements that 
were received with all the gravity attach- 
ing to a judgment rendered by a supreme 
court justice. 

England had passed through a witch 
persecution earlier in the century. The 
Massachusetts colony had sought the 
refuge of the new world for freedom to 
worship according to their conscience, 
and it was a universal belief that the arch 
enemy of souls was making a renewed 
and desperate effort to assert his dom- 
inion in this new region. The surround- 
ing forests were filled with Indians, and 
they especially, were considered as allies 
and henchmen of the devil, as well as the 
prowling beasts, for the conception was 
universal that he assumed protean forms, 
of which the favorites were dogs, cats, 
lynxes and wolves. 

This brief sketch of the condition of 
things in Salem and its vicinity is not 
introduced here for the purpose of 
historical instruction, but to make more 
intelligible the atmosphere of the time 
during which this story is cast. 

CHAPTER I. 

"Nay, nay, love, it cannot be! The 
terror of these times hath frighted thee, 
as well it may, but surely, no accusation 
can lie against thee, so young, so pure, so 
innocent, so godly in all thy ways. We 
know that Satan is abroad, and that the 
powers of darkness have been loosed to 
work his will, but surely, not to bring 
danger and death to thee. Thou art 
wrought up to a pitch of fear whereby 
thou canst not use thy usual reason." 

"Would God it were so, Philip, but I 



have that prescience of the future that 
makes me tremble, and I see myself be- 
fore those stern-eyed magistrates ; I hear 
the testimony that will consign me to the 
chains and prison, then to the Witch's 
Hill, and then ! Oh God ! can it be that 
I, too, must suffer that frightful fate?" 

"No ! By the God of Israel, I say no ! 
and by Satan himself, and all his myr- 
midons, I swear no ! I know not why 
thou should'st fear this, but this I swear ; 
that should such fate o'ertake thee, I, my- 
self will plunge a knife through thy 
sweet bosom, deep into thy pure heart, 
sooner than that thou shalt be one of 
those to wend thy way up that ghastly 
slope ; and of those that send thee there, 
one at least, and more, can I but compass 
it, shall join thee and me on the thither 
side. But why, love, why hast thou this 
fear that hath taken such strange hold 
on thee?" 

The violence of the girl's emotion had 
partially abated, and though her bosom 
still heaved, she compelled herself to 
sufficient calmness to answer. 

"Listen. Thou rememberest Goodwife 
Nourse, a woman of saintly life for three 
score and ten years, all of which were 
filled with deeds of kindness and the fear 
of God? 

"What availed her saintly life and 
deeds of kindness, her defence, her plead- 
ings? And her memory to-day? Who 
dare speak of her save in terms of 
reproach and anathema, and this but one 
week gone? Tell me?" 

"Nay, Martha, I cannot. These mat- 
ters be too great for me. We are taught 
that wisdom and justice abideth in the 
ministers, and the counsel of the elders 
and magistrates " 

"Wisdom and justice !" she interrupted 
hotly. "Aye ! so is wisdom and justice, 
and pity and mercy in the heart of the 
tigress and the lion when the lust for 
blood is on them as much as in those 
thou namest." 

"But why, Martha, I pray thee, fearest 
thou that this blood lust will be turned 
upon thee? Truly, if thou curbest not 
thy tongue, I fear evil will befall thee, 
for thou knowest thy speech is not meet 
and reverent, but reckless and imprudent 
were it heard by other ears than mine." 



A FAIR WITCH 



389 



"I know full well that I must not say 
to others what is in my heart, but the hor- 
ror of these trials and hangings hath 
swelled it almost to bursting, and speech 
I must have, although but to thee, for 
thee I trust." 

"And well thou mayest, for in thy 
well-being is my life. Say on, for thou 
knowest the rack would not tear from 
me one word that would imperil thee." 

"I know it, for have I not promised to 
be thy wife, and would I have given thee 
that promise did I not trust thee utterly? 
Kiss me." 

As the man bent to meet her lips the 
girl threw her arms about him and held 
him in a passion of clinging, the while a 
shudder passed through her as she whis- 
pered : "Oh, my love, my love ! Shouldst 
they tear me from thee, I should die, even 
before they willed it. Promise me that 
should that happen which I fear, thou 
wilt give me the release of which thou 
hast spoken. It mayhap that such a 
deed will waken them from this madness 
by the very horror of its protest, and be 
counted unto thee by God for righteous- 
ness." 

"I have already told thee, sworn it, that 
so will I do sooner than have thee meet 
such doom. Thou, at least, wilt know 
that it is done in love, and to save thee 
and thine from the frightful ignominy of 
that thrice accursed hill. But thou hast 
not told me why thou fearest that such 
may be thy fate." 

"This is the reason thereof. Thou 
knowest who have been the accusers ; a 
parcel of silly children, wrought uoon by 
their own imaginations and the tales of 
the slave woman, Tetuba ; then, incited by 
one, who, while he wears the livery of 
God's minister, yet do I believe his heart 
blacker and more cruel than that of the 
arch-fiend himself, the Reverend Samuel 
Parris. 

"Something of that have I hinted to 
Mercy Lewis, whom I have known from 
her cradle. Thou rememberest that it is 
upon her accusation that Good wife Easty 
now lieth in prison loaded with chains. 
Replv she made not, but her eye had a 
baleful light as she looked at me, and her 
shoulders began to twitch. I seized her 
and shook her with somewhat of violence 



and the twitching ceased, but she broke 
into weeping. I placed my arm about 
her and comforted her, telling her that 
she was o'er-wrought, and to go home, 
advising her that she should abandon 
those meetings at the minister's house, 
for verily, of a truth, I believe that there 
the trouble began, though of that I said 
naught." 

The young man's face was very grave 
as he replied : "Alas, Martha, I fear me 
thy apprehensions have some foundation, 
and that thou hast struck a spark that 
may enkindle a conflagration which may 
yet enwrap thee in its flames. I believe, 
even as thou dost, that thou hast spoken 
truth concerning the man thou hast 
named, but it was most unwise. His life 
since he hath had this charge hath been 
one of contention, marked by greed and 
avarice. Moreover, he is vengeful, lust- 
ful of power and influence, and should 
the girl, Mercy Lewis, betray to him the 
hint thou hast dropped and the advice 
thou gavest, I doubt not but that he will 
endeavor to brew trouble for thee. I like 
not these men, who, though they be or- 
dained ministers, can find divine war- 
rant to accomplish ends, which in us, 
who wear not the cloak of sanctity, 
would be attributed to personal motives, 
from which none is entirely free. What 
would life be to me, if harm should come 
to thee, Martha ?" 

The girl, now more alarmed at the 
thought of her lover's distress than of 
her own possible danger, endeavored to 
make light of her previous fears. 

"I told thee, Philip, I had but hinted, 
and that lightly, and as for the advice I 
gave the child, 'twas good, but I'll war- 
rant me she had forgotten both ere she 
reached her home as I shall forget my 
fears. 'Tis when I think of my love for 
thee, and all the happiness the future 
may contain by thy side, that my silly 
fears do threat me, that such unclouded 
bliss be not for sinful man or woman. 
Forgive me for raising such darksome 
thoughts. They are foolish, and I will 
cast them from me, and dwell only on the 
delight that thou lovest me." 

Their lips met in a long caress as he 
bade her farewell, but the heart of Philip 
English was very heavy as he went his 



390 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



way, for he well knew the temper of the 
community, and that the fanaticism 
which had already shed the blood of six 
innocent victims would never be satisfied 
until its appetite had been gorged by the 
death of many others, and that his 
betiothed and he himself, might be 
among them. 

CHAPTER II. 

Some ten days later, as young English 
was cutting poles in the woods to fence 
a piece of ground, a youth, whom he 
knew as a servant in the family of his 
betrothed approached, handing him a 
piece of folded paper. 

The apprehension which Martha's talk 
with him had previously aroused had 
become lulled, for nothing had occurred 
to warrant the fears she had expressed, 
and on those occasions when he had seen 
her since then, and had referred to the 
matter, she had declared that they were 
of little account; that she had been 
nervous and over-wrought, but his hand 
trembled as he took the note. 

In those days correspondence between 
lovers by letters and billet doux on all 
possible excuses was a thing unknown, 
and only a matter of grave importance 
could warrant it, so his fears returned 
with renewed force as he unfolded and 
read what she had written: "My well 
beloved. I am in sore travail and dis- 
tress, and have need of thee at the soon- 
est thou canst come to me. Thine ." 

He turned to the boy sharply. 

"When gave she you, this note?" 

"The sun was about four hours high." 

"And now it lacks a scant hour of mid- 
day. Said she anything?" 

"Take this to Mr. English, and lose no 
time. Say naught to any, but place it in 
his own hands." 

"You have been more than three hours 
coming but little more than a league. 
Why the delay?" ] 

"I could not start at once. When here, 
I knew not where to find you. She bade 
me say naught, so I asked no questions, 
but sought." 

"Wherein you showed discretion and 
obedience. Be ever so and it may ad- 
vantage you. Here is a token," and he 
handed the lad a shilling. 



"How go things at your master's?" he 
continued. 

"As usual till yester afternoon, when 
the worshipful Messers. Hutchinson and 
Putnam did ride up to the house. There 
they remained for an hour. Since then 
there seemeth to be somewhat of anxiety 
if one may guess from the grave faces of 
my master's family. More, I saw tears 
in the eyes of Mistress Martha." 

"William, observation and a silent 
tongue are of great worth. How look 
you upon your mistress, Martha?" 

"I would give my life for her !" cried 
the boy earnestly. "Well you know, sir, 
that the lot of a redemptioner is not easy. 
She hath shown me unvarying kindness, 
and in the pain I had last winter when 
the log fell upon my leg, she ministered 
to me as a sister might have done," and 
the boy's eyes moistened. 

"I believe you, William. She hath a 
good heart. It mayhap that she will 
need friends ere much time hath flown. 
Can she depend on you?" 

"I have but my life, sir. That is hers 
and she need it, as I have just said." 

"I do not doubt it were she in peril of 
life or limb by attack from wild beast, 
savage or accident, but there be perils 
in the air these times that turn men's 
hearts to water. How then ?" 

"I know to what you refer, sir. 'Tis 
but one to me what threats her, be it 
beast, savage or devil, as I have but the 
one life. 'Tis hers." 

"Give me your hand, lad," and the 
colonial aristocrat and redemptioner boy 
looked each other in the eye, and though 
no word was said, each knew that a vow 
was registered, and each gave trust to 
the other. Silence was golden in those 
days, and especially at that particular 
time and in that locality. 

"Do you return at once?" asked the 
elder man. 

"I was bade to do some commissions, 
and she also whispered to me, 'Be in no 
haste to return. Keep a silent tongue and 
open ears about the town, learning what 
may be said.' So it will be toward night- 
fall ere I go back." 

"Follow the advice given. I go at 
once. Tell no one you have seen me or 
been entrusted with a message. Neither 



A FAIR WITCH 



391 



accompany me. Wait until I have been 
gone half an hour, and if idleness irks, 
here is my axe." So saying, Philip Eng- 
lish hurried away to his home, saddled 
his horse, and drew no rein until he had 
reached the home of his affianced. 

As he dismounted, Martha met him, 
saying only, "It was good and sweet in 
thee to come so quickly. Wilt always 
when I call?" 

"While life remains, and I think I 
should hear thy sweet voice even had 
death claimed me. But why needest thou 
me now? Surely that which thou 
fearest — " 

"Nay, not in the way I feared then. I 
will tell thee all. But thou hast not 
eaten ?" 

"No. William found me in the wood 
and I lost no time. Thy message seemed 
urgent." 

"It was unnecessarily so, but I wanted 
thee so much," and she laid her hand on 
her lover's arm. "Wilt come into the 
kitchen, or shall I bring thee something 
here?" and she indicated a rude table 
standing under a magnificent oak in the 
yard. 

"Out here is better. I stifle indoors, 
not only from the heat, but from this ter- 
ror that stalketh at noon-day. I want to 
be in the open. I want to see about me. 
I feel as if secret enemies lurked in every 
corner, and I need to be where I can face 
them, though facing what we face boots 
little." 

"Then sit down, and I will bring thee 
something." 

She disappeared into the house and 
soon returned bringing a table-cloth of 
home-spun linen, but white as bleaching 
on green grass could make it ; a plate of 
blue Canton-ware, a knife, steel fork and 
silver spoon. These she set in order on 
the table, went back and forth until she 
had placed before him some cold meat, 
a loaf of bread, fresh butter, cakes, a 
pitcher of thick, yellow cream, some ber- 
ries and half a pie. 

"Now, eat, my love. When thou hast 
finished I will tell thee why I sent for 
thee, but first, let me hear again that thou 
lovest me," and she leaned forward, her 
hands resting on the table, her rounded 
arms and dimpled elbows showing below 



her rolled up sleeves, while she gazed at 
him with an intentness of passion that 
stirred his inmost soul. 

"Love thee, Martha ! I would that my 
tongue could find the words that might 
express my heart, or give thee such 
assurance that thou couldst not doubt — " 

"Nay, nay, Philip, thou mistakest me. 
I do not doubt. I know that thou lovest 
me as well as ever was woman loved by 
man, but it is so sweet to hear it. Ah ! 
we women never tire of listening, but 
wish to hear it o'er and o'er again, and 
each time it hath new music in our ears. 
That is why I asked thee. It gives us 
courage, and I bethink me that I shall 
have need of all that my faith in God and 
the assurance of thy love can give me. 
Dost thou know that Goodmen Hutchin- 
son and Putnam visited us yester after- 
noon ?" 

"William said something of it, and that 
they left behind them grave faces. Why 
did they call? 

"Thou knowest my mother, and that a 
godlier woman doth not live, full of all 
Christian virtues and human kindliness. 

"Thou knowest her brightness and 
cheerfulness, so different from the 
solemn-visaged goodwives of the town. 
Thou knowest how the very children love 
her, and whenever she appeareth on the 
street, one or more do always seek to 
accompany her, to bear her parcels, to 
hold her hand, to listen to her speech, 
and are loath to leave her when she 
returns to her door. And to think that 
these traits of her sweet nature should be 
the instruments they are trying to turn 
against her to her undoing! Oh, Philip! 
Philip !" and the girl's voice broke as the 
tears fell from her eyes. 

"This then was what the visit of these 
men meant ! Dost mean to tell me that 
they are so mad and blind that they dare 
bring accusation against thy mother?" 

"No, not accusation. The matter hath 
not yet reached that stage, but their visit 
was one of inquiry, and thou knowest 
what a visit of inquiry from those men 
meaneth. They are like wolves, who 
once having caught the scent of blood, 
pursue their quarry until they come up 
with it and rend it with their fangs." 

"But how came this about ? W r hat said 



392 



NEW ENGLAND MAGAZINE 



they, and why should they make thy 
mother the subject of inquiry?" 

To tell how the matter started I can- 
not, for their method is not direct, but I 
gathered it was somewhat in this wise. 
As I said, thou knowest how the children 
flock after her, and how she hath a laugh 
with this one, a merry jest with that one, 
and a kiss for another one, wherein she 
differeth mightily from the other women 
who are always chiding, and telling the 
little ones that this or that is not meet or 
seemly. It would seem that someone 
hath intimated that these very qualities 
which surely savor more of the spirit of 
Christ than of the evil one, are inspired 
by the latter, and that he hath given her 
uncanny power to attract the children, 
and this visit was that they might inter- 
rogate her on the matter." 

"And what came of it?" 

"Nothing as yet, but thou knowest that 
once the finger of suspicion is pointed at 
any one, it groweth like those noisome 
things that come up in a night. At sun- 
set, the grass is clean and beautiful ; in 
the morning it is speckled with the 
poisonous growths." 

"I know it well, but what said they 
further?" 

"They asked her if she had ever had 
communication with Satan, and where 
got she the power to so attract the chil- 
dren." 

"And what answer made she?" 

"That never had she had such com- 
munication as that to which they refer- 
red ; that she had no desire so to do, and 
more, that had she such desire, she would 
be ignorant of the way and manner of 
going about it, adding that were the sub- 
ject not so serious, she would feel like 
laughing at the absurdity thereof. That 
as for the children being fond of her, it 
was but natural, she supposed, because 
she was fond of them." 

"And then?" 

"They cautioned her about speaking 
lightly on so grave a matter; that it was 
beyond argument that Satan had ways 
and means of making himself under- 
stood, and that her reply savored of 
evasion. 

"As to the attraction she exerted on 
the little ones, they asked her if she 



presumed to say that she loved them 
more than other goodwives. If she said 
'yes,' that she was arrogant and pre- 
sumptuous ; if she said 'no/ that it must 
be an unholy influence that drew them, 
for no other woman did they seek as 
her." 

"And her reply?" 

"That she could say no more, for more 
she knew not. She could but repeat her 
denial and assert her belief that children 
were more attracted by a smiling face 
than a sour one, and by cheerful, pleas- 
ant words than by constant admonition." 

"What said they whe